Fall from grace
by hye-kyo
Summary: It was the encounter that changed them. KK. Collection of drabbles.
1. The courtship

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

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**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine...

**Author's Notes: **So this is a series of one-shots. To compare with my other one-shots this collection is dark, angsty and a bit more sensual. Not innuendos, unlike my humor fics, scenarios vary but of course the main threads are sex and violence and dark predicaments. So if you don't like this kind of story then it's best you stay away from it. This is a shift from my usual themes and topics, and I have to say that writing dark fics is really hard, especially for someone so inexperienced like me. But anyway, just to warn everyone, this series will include vampires, gods, supernatural beings, and the likes so...you know just to warn everyone beforehand.

So there. If this is not yor type of story you may want to check out my other fics. They are lighter and perhaps funnier. Again, so there. Please do read and review! ^__^

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**Title: **The Courtship

**Rating: **T

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Her father lost her to the manslayer.

She gritted her teeth, her hands buried deep within the shawl she was holding as the valet, a lanky man with brown ruffled hair, said in lazy drawl that his master would have her transported to the palace tomorrow at dusk. She would bring nothing but a few change of clothes, for the master would provide for everything once she is settled in.

She gave her father a look, squinting her eyes as if she could not bear to see him anymore. And in truth she could not. She loved her father dearly and she would have gone to the ends of the earth for him. She would have sacrificed herself to ensure his safety, just like what she was doing now. But no, the matter by which she was laying down herself as the sacrificial lamb was too absurd, too silly, too stupid.

She could not believe how he lost all their fortunes at gambling. Her father was never good with the dice and so she thought that he must have known better than to dabble with something he was not familiar with. But whatever came to her father that time when he decided to risk their future she could not name, or if she could she would not apprehend.

Men are unthinking beasts. She wondered if it was the promise of more fortune that lured his father into gambling. She could not ask him, she could not bring herself to scold him, she could not bring herself to talk to him. Her grief was so great she thought she might hurt him if she talks to him.

She bit her tongue, reminding herself it was unladylike to talk back so harshly, so gravely to a person, especially when the person happened to be your father. She sat down, regally, her chin poised, telling herself that her dignity was the only thing left. But as the clock reminded her of the reality of tomorrow's dusk she realized that her dignity, the only thing left, would be gone too.

She looked out into the window. Her father lost her to the beast. She should have gone with him when he asked her to come. The invitation from the manslayer came early one morning. As to why they would be invited she doesn't know. There were many other travellers staying over and the manslayer could have picked someone more challenging. But the compulsion to accept the invitation was so great that her father did not heed the stir in the air as the locals knew of the invitation.

Somehow she blamed herself for the folly of his father. If she had been there she might have prevented him from gambling off their future, and her eventually. Btu she wasn't. And she was pawned.

She had not heard anything about the manslayer from his father. The innkeeper, once she learned of the predicament they were in, whispered to her about the brutality of the eyes of the manslayer, such that a single look could make one cower with fear. The innkeeper, a woman with a sharp tongue, told her no one had seen the manslayer and lived thus no one could say how he really looks like, except for the fact that his eyes flash gold in the night. Many local men have sworn that they saw amber glinting in the forest at night, and that glinting sent fear jolting through them making them scurry through the dark blindness of the night into the safety of their homes.

_How did they know it was the manslayer?_ She asked, a little disconcerted, she had tried so hard to retain her composure after the tale but no matter how hard she tried she could not, the fear had seeped into her bones and would not go away.

_They say the manslayer is not human_. The innkeeper served her soup and bread the morning of her departure.

She shivered. _Not human!_ She had not the appetite to finish her meal and she waited for dusk to come with an empty stomach.

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She lifted her right foot, followed it with her left as she stepped on the carriage. She did not turn her head to her father who cried apologetically as the valet drew the curtains of the door. She rested her hands on the cloth of her kimono, removing invisible lint, trying to distract herself, trying not to think of the dark fate waiting for her at the palace beyond the forest.

"My master will be with you in the evening," the valet drawled, a glassy look in his eyes, as if he was not really amused with his task, as if what he was doing was what he had been doing for a long time.

She merely nodded, lifting her head gracefully with a grave expression. She returned to the task of inspecting her cloth.

"Are there things you want to know concerning your fate?" the valet arched a brow.

She shot her head up, looked him in the eye and for the first time saw that this man was not as puppet-like as he seemed at first. There was a wild intelligence in his eyes, a sense of pride in the way he held himself, of he spoke, a lazy way of saying he had seen much of the world and nothing could surprise nor frighten him anymore.

"So?" he asked again, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Alright then," she cleared her throat, "Why is he called the manslayer?"

There was an amused crack in his voice as he replied, "Good question. You will get the answer from My master himself."

"Why, is he going to slay me?" there was defiance in her eyes, challenging the valet.

He smiled and he laughed, "Much more Missus. Much more." And he kept silent, though the glint in his eyes told her there was more to his laughter than he ought revealed. And she almost cowered had not her sense of dignity and pride reminded her she was not some animal, nor thing, to be pawned.

But at that moment. That exactly what she was.

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The door of the carriage opened to reveal to her a monstrous palace, so big it seemed not to fit in its surroundings. There was a silent hush about the area, as if the wind had not dared to come to this part of the region. She took a step down the carriage, her fear looming large and ugly within her.

The pathway was bricked, lined with a torii as if it was a shrine, a sacred ground. The torii arched and as she looked up, saw that it could almost reach the sky. It was blood red, a spear piercing the evening sky.

The valet coughed, reminding her to move forward. She took a step, as big as the narrow opening of her kimono could allow. She reached the end of the bricked pathway, the sliding gates made of metal. The gates were pushed open by unknown and unseen forces and she was ushered in.

She looked around; and she saw bushes of roses lining the path leading to the main entrance. There were rose bushes everywhere. She was not really fond of red roses and she found the scent assailing her nostrils, giving her a sick feeling.

The valet led her into the drawing room. She sat in front of the open porch, a kakemono hanging down the side of the wall to her right. Other than the kakemono and the silk cushion she was sitting on the room was bare. "My master will be here." It was a way of saying she should wait and not try to run away. And the valet disappeared, his footfalls muffled by the tatami floor.

She looked out into the porch. The grass was tall and unkempt, the palace had that wild aura about it. She kept still, her chin up as she surveyed the night sky.

The soft pads of feet hitting the floor came abruptly, stirring the silence of the night. She grew tense, fear pooling in her belly. She stood up, waiting for the man or beast who will resign her to her terrible fate.

The doors leading to the hall where the sounds came opened slowly. It was dark, the room illuminated by a soft glow from the lantern by the porch. She tried to make out his features but the dark prevented her to. The only thing she saw was the pair of amber eyes glinting in the dark. So the innkeeper's tale was true, she told herself.

She tried to retain her composure, of what little of her pride she retained and spoke, in a high-pitched voice to her dismay, that she was Kamiya Kaoru, the woman promised to him in payment of her father's debt.

He did not speak nor did she hear any sound coming from him such that the moment he was suddenly near her she held her breath, feeling his own against her neck. His arms snaked about her, tight and rough and his mouth moved over her pulse.

_They say the manslayer is not human._ The words of the innkeeper rang in her head, mixing with the fear pounding in her ears. She felt the velvet tip of his tongue dart against the skin of neck. She weakened, fear and something else she could not name pooling low in her belly.

She took in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her chest clouding her hearing, his scent, musky and so male invading her sense of smell, his tongue circling around her pulse and his teeth raking softly, languidly against her skin obscuring her sense of judgement.

She wakened herself from the feel of him so close to her and tried to wrench free but he held on tight, his arms like marble around her. He continued tasting her skin, his tongue swirling around the pulse in her neck as he held her still. He let out a groan and she felt the telltale prick of his canines against her neck. In an instant he bit down, his fangs digging deep into her pulse, her blood flowing into his mouth.

She stirred, heat spreading over her, settling on her abdomen, making her clung to him to like an inbred lady. She stifled a moan, the feeling exquisite. She thought she would find it repulsive yet surprisingly she did not. She found herself craving for more.

One arm loosened slightly, his fingers moving to skim through her bosom, his tongue swirling over her skin to seal the bite. He cupped her breast, his fingers loosening the opening of her kimono. His mouth moved over her collarbone, over the beginning of the swells of her breast.

She held on tight to his mane of hair, closed her eyes and felt a wave of dizziness darkened her head. She took in a deep breath, her throat going dry, her body arcing against him. She tried hard to remain awake, feeling his mouth hot and moist on her skin.

She fought the dizziness but the sudden urge to sleep overcame her and she felt the darkness clouding her vision.

---

She woke up, the morning light basking her face in warmth. She found herself in an unfamiliar room, a room that she presumed was now hers, a blanket over her. She sat up, dressed and inspected herself through the looking glass. There was no mark on her neck. She was not particularly sure if last night was a dream or not. It held that feeling of something that happened in the past or something that happened in her dream.

The white skin of her face looked a little flushed and she gazed at herself for a long time. The innkeeper told her that it was probably her dark hair and wide blue eyes that lured the manslayer. Beauty has been the folly of many women, trapping them in loveless marriages, forcing them to live with men they barely knew. Now she was sharing their fate, all because of a face that she did not ask for.

But last night..._Last night!_ She shivered, had she given herself entirely to the manslayer last night? She could not remember and she would not know. She wanted to know if he had done more than she could remember.

She went to the drawing room and found the valet. He bowed at her, his hands raking through his unkempt hair. "My master will be here this evening."

"Is he human?" she asked, her voice nervous.

"That's a question you should ask him yourself My Lady," he bowed again and without further ado he left.

She found her breakfast prepared and a change of clothes for her. Perhaps, aside from the valet, there were people working for the manslayer. But whether there really was any she could not ascertain. She looked out into the sky, tracing the path the valet had disappeared into.

Could she run away? She knew she could. There was no hint of danger in the air. She felt the warm air stir around her, whispering assuring voices that she could run away if she wanted to.

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Her father had pawned her and with that came the sense of duty. She had stayed and it was getting dark. The valet told her the lord of the palace is going to come this evening. She felt a sense of excitement wash through her. Was it only because of duty that she stayed? Weren't there more reasons?

She flushed, warmth spreading through her once more.

The soft pads of footfalls assailed her hearing and she stood up, eager yet nervous at this night's encounter. The sliding doors opened, the darkness enveloping the two of them. The manslayer stepped in, his face obscured by the dark, his eyes glowing amber. She opened her mouth to speak but he was soon kissing the white column of her neck, leaving her at a loss for words.

Should she give herself? She held on tight to him, let a whimper escape through her mouth. She was beginning to act like a loose woman. And she was not even sure that he was human.

---

Days passed with breakfast and supper already laid out, her bath drawn and ready for her. She found herself waiting for the setting of the sun everyday, for his touches, his kisses. The silence about him was mysterious, seductive, languid, making her want him to the point that she felt restless everytime he was not around. The mornings had lost their lustre; it was all about the nights.

She had noticed the freedom she was given. She could go out whenever she desires. She could not even come back if she deemed. But she knew, and it was not because of her sense of duty, that she would not leave for she simply could not leave. She does not want to leave.

The valet was not in the drawing room when she came that morning. She had washed her face and had changed into a kimono she found ready by her futon. She waited, ate her breakfast and sat by the porch. By midday the valet appeared, as if summoned through smoke for he appeared out of nowhere. She had been accustomed to the strangeness of the place, of the sudden appearance and disappearance of people.

She sat regally, a book on her lap. She found a room filled with books, soft in soft bound some in hard. Most have yellowing covers, telling her that they must have been there for a very long time. Most have dog-eared pages. Whomever owned them probably must have read them a lot. Her astonishment sprang not from finding the books but from the idea that the manslayer might have been a lover of books. She smiled idly to herself as she imagined him reading. But of course she found her own imaginings limited for she had never seen his face. Though she had touched his face, felt the strong bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw and the hard line of his mouth, of the taut muscles in his arms and chest, she could never fully imagine his face.

His nightly visits were always limited. The touches, his hands hot against the light material of her nightwear, his mouth hard and demanding against her skin never on her own mouth, and his body heavy and firm against hers. But he never took her. It seemed like he was waiting, waiting perhaps for her acceptance, for her compliance. But she would never give him that. She may have been pawned, given in payment but she was not going to stoop low.

Yet she found herself yearning for his touch.

"My master will be here this evening," he said, disturbing her own thoughts. She blushed despite herself.

"Why weren't you here this morning," she asked, her eyes scanning his face. There was a trace of humor on his boyish features, a hint of amusement.

"The master had asked me to finish some important matters," he said offhandedly, telling her wordlessly that it was not her business to know.

"I will accost you to the room where my master will see you," he said, elegantly yet lazily turning around, beckoning her to follow him.

He said see and not meet like what he always does. _He will see me!_ She almost guffawed in excitement, in mirth. Yet she was a lady of breeding and of education and she was not guffaw. It was wrong to guffaw.

She followed the valet into a room so far secluded she had never thought it existed. It was a room brightly lit with lanterns. The room glowed a golden scarlet, warm and inviting. She sat down as instructed and found hot tea already poured for her into a porcelain cup. She took a sip daintily, the excitement building.

The valet made a bow, left the door silently.

She knew something was bound to happen. Something that would seal her fate forever. Was she ready? The question seemed like it was hanging in the air, waiting for her to break the stillness of the room with her presence and assail her the moment she sat down.

And now she was getting restless. What she was feeling, that moment the question took hold of her mind, was the same feeling she felt each time she waited for him at the drawing room. But as she pondered the question over and over in her head the feeling became more intense, making her heart flutter to her throat, making her feel warm, hot even so that what she wanted to do at the moment was to discard her silk kimono and let the night air wash through her, to let the cool breeze calm and soothe her aching and needing body.

The soft footfalls that she had come to associate with him came in hearing. She straightened, looked away and tried to focus on one of the lanterns as she heard the doors slid open. She knew she would see his face for the room was brightly lit. Why had he wanted to show his face? Why just now? She shivered at the idea of having to look at a repulsive face. She went back to her recollection of how he felt against her fingertips, apart from the scar on his cheek there was no indication that anything could have marred his features. At worst he would be plain looking. His nose was just so perfect to her touch, his jaws firm on her shoulders as he sagged against her and his lips...no she couldn't think straight!

She shook her head slightly, a flush forming on her cheeks. She lifted her chin, a way of telling him she was not going to be easy to deal with. She turned slightly, hesitated and paused. She would see him and since she was the payment for a debt she did not incur she would accept him no matter what? But what if he looks repulsive? _No man who feels like that would look repulsive_. She took in a deep breath, she was no spoiled kid and she does not irrationally and randomly discriminate, but what if, oh God forbid! What if he looks like the beast in folklores? Like a kappa residing in the lakes? Like an oni in the mountains? She shivered involuntarily.

Nevertheless she caulked herself up with courage and turned slightly to look, a little reluctant, and as if finally accepting her fate, turned fully to gaze at the man whom she would be with for the rest of her life, if the rest of her life meant living long until her hair turned white or even if it meant living for a short span for she might just be another meal for the manslayer. She turned nonetheless and the moment she turned she thought she had forgotten how to breathe.

He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His hair shone crimson, golden highlights emphasized by the warm apricot from the lanterns. Her eyes fell on his own, amber, fierce, a certain savageness in them, a tinge of—Was she expecting?—possessiveness in those orbs, assessing and calculating yet all at the same time ravaging her with a primitive rake of his eyes from her feet to her face, settling finally on the line of her mouth. She swallowed hard.

"Good evening," he spoke, two very simple words which seemed like a chant coming from his own mouth. The words came soft, like a purr, but firm and languid, like an invitation, his voice low, a bit raspy, soothing, yet his voice invaded all her senses making her unable to think, to think of what to reply to his greeting, to think of anything to say, to think of anything at all.

She traced the shape of his eyes, almond, down to the bridge of his nose which was perfect, the feel of it she could remember very well, his mouth, a slight amused smile on one corner, his mouth which she knew whose form had left an imprint on her neck, and she could trace the line of it embossed on her skin, as if it was really a part of her own body.

He was a god and she found herself wanting him so badly, the heat pooled low and wicked in her belly, making her gasp reluctantly.

He must have known for he was suddenly before her, a flash of red the only indication that he moved, his hands pining her against the wall, his mouth on her neck. His tongue teased, his teeth raked and his free hand explored the tight cloth of her kimono, loosening the fabric, tugging at the obi about her waist.

She arched, her hands splayed against his chest. She took in the scent of his hair, of his body and it told her of his need, of his want. She clutched at the cloth of his gi, sable and dangerous, and she stifled a moan even as he bent down to dip his tongue in the hollow between her collarbones.

Her senses came back the instant she felt him press a knee between her own, her now-loosened kimono allowing him to part her legs. She shrieked, more a cry of surprise rather than protest. She pushed him, a sudden jolt of her hands against his and she loosened herself from his hold, hurtling herself to the far side of the room. She turned, swallowing mouthfuls of air and tried to move farther but her feet got caught in the tangled mess of her kimono and she fell on her back, her fall stifled by the soft tatami floor, a soft thud reverberating, stirring the air.

She lay, frozen, very aware of how vulnerable she is. She tried to stand up, to fight him, to fight her own urges but soon he was hovering above her, a firm grip on her hands above her head, pining her down, subjugating her, an act she found frightening yet all at once exhilarating. She stilled, his breath hot against her mouth as he gazed into her eyes, his own amber matching her blue ones, daring her to move, to fight back.

"Kill me now," she whispered, her eyes defiant, her voice harsh. "End my shame."

He laughed, a low dangerous laugh and he pressed his body closer to hers, "I could have killed you the first time I saw you if I wanted to."

"Then," her throat went dry, a new found fear in her heart, "Why don't you kill me now? What do you want from me?"

"All of you," he growled and his mouth found hers, his kiss rough and savage, his tongue delving, tasting and then exploring deeper until she felt she could not breathe, until she felt she would gladly give him herself until she melts into a little puddle at his glorious feet.

He pulled back, a smug smile on his marble face. He ran his tongue on his lower lip, a move that made her shudder.

"Why do they call you the manslayer?" she cleared her throat, heard her own voice rang strong in her ears and she was glad because she was not going to lose herself easily to this beautiful beast.

"I killed many," he curtly responded as his hands freed hers, as his hands roved down her body, as one hand cupped her softness against the silk cloth of her undergarment. She bit her lower lip and stifled a moan.

"What is your name then?" she was breathless. She needed to know much about this man before she could finally give herself to him.

He arched a brow, a smile playing on his mouth and slowly, moving closer as to breath the words into her own lips, he mouthed, "Kenshin, Himura Kenshin."

"Well then Himura-san—"

"Kenshin." He corrected as his hands fingered through the folds of her robes.

"Kenshin," she struggled, "Well then...would you release me as soon as I give you what you want?" she tried to look him in the eyes but his hands were touching her in the most intimate of places and she found it hard to act defiant.

"No," he growled, feral. Anger welled in his golden orbs and he savagely rebutted, "I have waited for you for many centuries. Now that I have you I would not let you go."

_Centuries?_ She remembered the bite in her neck. _The manslayer is not human._ The words rang clear. "Why me?"

"I have brought women, women I thought were the one. But I never touched any of them, I could not bring myself to touch any of them. There was no desire to touch any of them. I let them be and they all ran away at the chance of escape. I gave you your chance, many times I have given you chances to escape but you never did."

She shivered at the fierce glare in his eyes, "I was bound to my duty...My father, my father has a debt he has to pay and..." she faltered.

"You feel it too, you feel the connection between us that was why you did not run away," he said firmly, certain of what he said.

"You did something...did you not make the connection yourself when you took my blood?" she arched involuntarily against him as his hands found her softness and stroked.

"The connection was there from the beginning, from the very moment I laid eyes on you. I affirmed it by taking your blood. Now you are bound to me," he said it with such certainty in her voice that she found herself brooding over the inconsequentiality of her fate. "Did you not think that there was a reason behind the invitation? I do not invite random people over to my territory."

So it was true. What the innkeeper told her was true. The gamble was all a set-up, like a rehearsed play, an already written verse. "You cannot do this. You cannot force me to do what I will not."

"But you already did. You came here of your own accord." There was amusement in his eyes.

"My own accord? Ha! You put my father in debt and forced me as the payment for his loss. Is that what you call own accord?" there was taunting in her fierce, angry eyes as she tried to stifle the spasms she felt through her legs with his fingers continuously stroking her.

"I have given you the chance to escape haven't I? Yet you stayed and that's what you call own accord."

Her eyes widened. Why did she stay? It was not merely because of her filial duty. What was it then? She felt his mouth on her own, his hands sliding down the bedraggled clothes about her shoulders. She wanted him and then she knew. She stayed because she had to. She had to because she wanted to. Leaving would be insane. "You are not human."

"I am not," he whispered to her, his mouth now on her neck, his tongue running circles on the sensitive skin above her pulse. "But I do not intend to make you my meal if that's what you meant," he laughed wryly. He pressed a kiss on the center of her throat, "You do not know what you do to me. You drive me insane. I had tried so hard not to touch you the very first time I saw you, I felt like my own life is drifting, seeping through my very own hands, leaving me dead and frozen."

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, tentatively touching his face at first and as he smiled she pressed a kiss on his mouth.

"I will make love to you," he said, simply yet elegantly, the words flowing like sweet honey from his mouth, flooding her, overwhelming her, suspending her in a world where there is only him, the manslayer, and her, the sacrifice.

"You're going to keep me here? What about my family?" she felt the telltale sting of tears in the corner of her eyes and before she knew it they were flowing, wetting her cheeks with salty liquid.

He followed the trail of tears with his kisses, gently, softly, his hands pressing firmly against her abdomen, making her writhe restlessly with her need. "You're family is provided for. I have reinstated your father to his social status, have returned the fortunes he lost to me and had sent him back to your region."

_He left!_ And she sobbed even more. She was left to her own devices, perhaps her father thought her dead but for him to leave with all the fortunes returned...It would have been more honourable had he not accepted the riches and left the region grieving for the daughter he lost. But he...Oh how pitiful! She clutched at the lapels of his clothes, her eyes stinging with tears.

"You have me," he assured her, kissing her mouth, tilting her chin to let him kiss her deeper. "You are not going to desert me."

There was a hint of finality in his voice and she looked up, told herself to stop crying and traced the line of his mouth. He was a ruthless being, whatever he is, but there was something assuring about him, something she could not place, something that she was willing to find out and put a name on even if it took a hundred years, two hundred, a thousand, maybe a million.

"I want you," he growled, primitive, possessive. She gazed into his amber eyes and knew that when he said he wanted her he meant everything about her.

She turned her thoughts over and over in her head. It was her raven hair and azure eyes that drew the manslayer to her said the innkeeper but she knew it was more than that. She was drawn to him and him to her. She felt the stillness in the air when she had stepped down the train the moment she and her father reached this region, she had felt the stir in it when she went to the woods to look around and she felt the warmth in it when she felt his touch through the dark.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her own lips touching the sensitive skin over his pulse tentatively, daintily, like a lady drinking from a cup of tea and she kissed his skin, marvelled at how he tensed and stirred. She ran her fingers down the taut muscles of his back, memorizing every plane, angle, every twist of sinew. She slowly curled her fingers, rested them on his shoulder blades and tilted her chin, not in defiance but in acceptance.

"Y-yes," she whispered; the words barely out of her own mouth when he suddenly seized her, tenderly, selfishly. And she knew then and there that whatever he was she was going to stay with him.

Her father lost her to the manslayer. And she would lose herself to this being, man or beast, over and over again.

**---**

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**A/n: **So what do you think? Long? Yeah I know...

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	2. Making love

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

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**Disclaimer: **RK isn't mine…

**Author's Notes: **This is a dialogue heavy fic, not much of a plot…a little too fantastic (who wouldn't remember a girl he has slept with a good number of times?) Anyway, the point is not that anyway, if there is any point in the fic it's up to you guys to look for it. But well, this is just a little drabble that I hope you'd all like…

Read and review!

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**Title: **Making love

**Rating: **T

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He had slept with too many women to even remember their names, nor their faces.

She was one of them.

He stood up, put on his pants and shirt and said, "Don't expect too much from me."

She knew she was one of them. The moment she looked at him she knew she was one of them.

"I may not even notice you in a crowd," he said, rather to himself.

She nodded.

He had far too many experiences with women, whether it was the first, the nth or the last. Women are all the same.

It was her first. She nodded again.

He zipped his fly, run a hand through his hair and said, "I don't sleep with the same girl more than once."

She nodded.

For the first time that night he looked at her. He frowned. She only nodded.

She made no move to get up nor to say anything.

He shook his head and left.

---

She leaned against her chair, saw the sky lightening up. She thought it was going to rain. She turned towards the raised platform.

"Do you have a pen?"

She looked behind her. She nodded, smiled and handed a pen. It was him.

"Thanks," he said without even looking at her.

She nodded again.

He frowned, looked up and asked, "What's your name?"

"Takahashi Mina," she murmured.

"Ah," and he looked down again.

Of course. He said he wouldn't remember. She turned, looked ahead and saw the platform again.

---

She went to the burger joint, ordered a soda and a burger and sat in one corner looking through the glass walls. There were college students at the other side of the street having coffee. She doesn't like coffee. She doesn't enjoy college.

"Hey."

She looked up.

"Could I share a seat?"

It was him.

"Sure." And she pulled her tray to the side.

"I'm Kenshin, you go to the University?" he asked.

She nodded.

He stopped abruptly, looked thoughtful for a moment and then, "Say…have I…" and then he shook his head. "Ah…nothing…"

She took a bite from her burger.

"What's your name?"

"Yamanaka Suzume." And she looked at him.

"Ah," and he simply started eating.

---

Sometime in April she went to the Ginza district with her roommate. Her roommate, whom she calls Mi-chan, made her face, picked her clothes for her and made her wear high heels.

They went to a bar in Ginza that night. She picked a lightly spiked juice and Ki-chan got hard drinks. Mi-chan was already drunk by midnight.

He came with a friend at around half past one in the morning. She was sitting beside the drunk Mi-chan who suddenly howled and hooted for him and his friend to come.

Eventually Mi-chan went with his friend. They were left alone to talk.

"Hi," he said, "What's your name?"

She thought, "Miyata Umi."

"Ah…"

And they spend the night together in a love hotel.

---

She looked at the platform.

"Hey."

She looked behind.

"You look familiar," he said, frowning.

She shrugged and smiled.

"What's your name?"

"Hikari Sayo."

"Ah…" and he seemed thoughtful for a moment. "I think we had been classmates before."

"Probably," she nodded.

"Kenshin…Himura Kenshin."

"Ah…" she knew. Many times he said his name.

---

Sometime in August they met at a beach. He was watching a bonfire from driftwood blaze and crackle in the night. She was watching him watch.

"Hello," he approached her.

"Hello," she nodded.

His brows furrowed. He seemed to think of something but he immediately shook his head.

"I'm Watanabe Miyuki. You are?"

His brows twitched again, "Ah…Himura Kenshin."

"Ah…" she looked away and watched the bonfire again.

That night they went to the hotel together.

---

"You look familiar," he said while kissing her.

She nodded.

He stopped again and gazed at her face.

"What is my name?"

"I-I'm sorry…"

"Kamiya Kaoru."

"Ah…"

"That's my real name."

He frowned but continued kissing her.

"After every name I told you. That's the real one." She had fallen in love.

---

She watched the platform in front of the class after summer break.

"Come with me."

She looked behind her.

"Come," and he stood up just as the professor came.

She stood up too and followed him.

---

They sat on the grass.

"I've seen you many times."

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Many places." She looked up.

"What's your name?"

"For this moment?"

He looked at her.

"I'll give you one. A name you won't remember."

"Give me a name I will remember."

"I already have."

"What?"

"But you've forgotten."

He stopped.

"Do you," she turned to him, "Do you really like this kind of life?"

"I don't," he immediately said.

"I mean your kind of life?"

"Yes. I don't."

"Why? Don't men love sex too much?"

"That's why I'm doing it. Because I don't like it." And he looked irritated.

"You do it because you don't like it?"

"I feel trapped that's why I do it…I do it to get away."

"Haha." She took in a deep breath. "There's always a trap underneath everything, even underneath the traps themselves."

"Yeah…I kind of guessed that already."

She laughed again, "Then why do you still do it?"

"Because I'm looking for something."

"For?" she asked, inching closer.

"For a name I won't forget."

"Too bad I already gave mine."

"Right."

"And you didn't remember it."

"But I remembered your face."

"So? Were you looking for me all this time?"

"Probably."

"Then what is my name?" she asked. She wanted to know.

He didn't answer.

She stood up. "I'm going."

"That's what I hate about women," he said exasperated.

"What?"

"They leave when you don't remember them. They want you to do impossible things."

"Haha." And she walked away.

---

She moved somewhere north. She decided it was best to move. After many months she came back and sometime in winter break she saw him.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello," she replied.

"Where have you been?"

"Somewhere."

"Somewhere. Where?"

She shrugged. Does he remember now? She wanted to know.

"I didn't cheat."

"Hn?" she glanced up at him.

"I didn't cheat on two things."

She waited.

He took a deep breath. "First, I didn't ask the registry for your name."

She laughed a soft laugh. "You could cheat. If you want to."

"But that's stupid."

"It's part of the looking process."

His brows furrowed.

"And the second one?"

"I didn't sleep with anyone."

She laughed again, "I said you could cheat."

He looked hard at her.

"I said that it's part of the looking process."

"Then come with me." He held his hand.

"Where?"

"Somewhere."

"Somewhere. Where?"

He shrugged and he brought her home.

---

"I've had sex with many women." He whispered as he undressed her in the dark.

She nodded, closed her eyes and brought her palms to rest against his chest.

"But I'm going to make love to only one person."

"What's the difference?"

He took her face in his hand, "The first I don't like doing."

She cocked a brow.

"The latter I love."

"Ah. What made you think so?"

"Don't be so hard on me."

"Don't be so hard on me." Her eyes were trained on him. "Aren't you just bored on having sex with many women that you decided to just make love to one?"

"No."

"Sex…making love. It's all the same to me." She said watching his face contort into a frown.

"How so?"

"I do it with only one man."

The answer must have been too straightforward. His features stiffened.

"Don't be so shocked." She touched the tip of his nose.

"Right," and he kissed her.

---

She woke up with him beside her. She sat up, gathered her clothes and started getting dressed when she felt him stir.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving."

"Why?" he sat up and reached out for her hand.

"It's all the same."

"It's not anymore."

"Really?"

"Yes."

She thought. Perhaps she should give it a try.

"So?"

"So do you remember?"

"I think so."

"Then tell me."

He pulled her back into bed. "Will you make love to me again once I tell you?"

"Probably. If it's right." Though she was already keen on telling him whatever name he was going to tell her that it's right.

"Alright. Make love to me Kaoru."

She furrowed her brows.

"Make love to me Kamiya Kaoru." And he had pulled her and brought her back to bed beneath him even before she could respond.

She knew she need not to. She need not even before he asked.

---

* * *

**A/n: **So…you know the drill guys…

* * *


	3. End of the world

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine...

**Author's Notes: **Something i got from Haruki Murakami's Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. Superb book, I'm halfway done already I can't believe it. Anyway, I don't know what you would get from this one, a little less on the dark side, but well it's a bit sci-fi I should say though of course the story line is limited. You'd be left clueless with what they were talking about...But i hope you'd get the point...that is if there's any...

Read and review.

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**Title: **End of the world

**Rating: **T

**Genre: **Romance/Sci-Fi/Alternate Universe

---

Kenshin Himura woke up to the frantic cries of "Wake up, wake up! The world's going to end!" and to the pair of hands shaking him hysterically like the world was really going to end. He opened one eye, frowning, and swatted the hands away, burrowing his face deeper into the warmth of his pillow.

The cries increased and irritated he sat up and asked, "What?" He rubbed his eyes and turned the alarm clock on his night stand. It was almost one in the morning and he had not even a wink. He turned to, now he recognized, the furious girl by his bedside.

"They took my grandfather. We have to save him or the world's going to end!" she took him once again by the shoulders.

"I'm awake alright," he said, trying not to sound too harsh. In the soft glow of the lamp he noticed the wet shirt she was wearing and the slightly too-short black shorts. Her hair looked damp. Her face was white against the light and her mouth full and pink. Something in him stirred. He really needed sleep.

"They took my grandfather," she started and rambled on, breath intake and coughs mixed with words. Kenshin found himself unable to comprehend anything.

"From the start please," he said, for a man with no sleep for two days and who had just suffered an eight-centimetre cut on his gut and whose house now lay in ruins, not to mention his blown-up LCD and his slashed-up book collection, this was too much.

"Alright," she took in a mouthful of air, "They took my grandfather last night. I don't know how they did it or how they managed to break into the laboratory but they took him. I tried calling him, anything, but he didn't respond."

"How did you know they took him?" he stifled a yawn. "He must have been just in his laboratory. It's a habit right, just like you said, just like he said, he holes up in that cave without contacting you for weeks. How did you know this was different?"

"I just knew. Like a gut feel or something. He said he's going to be taken soon and when that happens he said the world's going to end. He told me to get you. He told me to ask for your help."

Kenshin wrinkled his nose. Did the old man know this was going to happen? "Look—" he hadn't asked her name yet. It occurred to him that apart from the fact that she has blue eyes, a sensual mouth, nice curves, and that she was the granddaughter of the old man, he knew nothing about her. Not even her name.

She seemed hesitant at first but quickly, as if there was something wrong in saying it she said her name finally, "Kaoru. Kamiya Kaoru."

"Alright Kaoru," he tested the name in his mouth, the word rolled of his tongue smoothly. He decided he liked it. "Kaoru," he tried it again, "I don't understand anything that's happening. I mean, I thought I understood but I don't really now." He motioned his hands to beckon her to look around. "This place is a mess."

Worry crossed her pretty features and she held his hand, "I'm sorry. I haven't even asked you what happened."

He thought that it was the signal for him to tell her what happened, "Well," he cleared his throat, "Two men came looking for the package and the data. They murdered the house and left me with a gash." He tried not to sound too whiny but just the thought of his book collection slashed repeatedly was making him angry.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Where did they hurt you?" she ran a hand down his chest and for some reason he felt like not wanting to be angry anymore.

He cleared his throat and placed his palm flat above the long wound on his gut.

She slowly eased the hem of his shirt and examined the cut, "It's long. Does it hurt too much?"

"When I move," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. He removed her prying hand gently and eased the shirt back. "So..." he shifted his eyes, her being too close was making him uncomfortable, "Do you have any idea where they brought your grandfather?" He had never a problem with women getting too close before. Maybe it was the scent of jasmine coming from the neckline of her shirt, from her ears and from her throat.

"I'm not really sure, but there might be clues in his journal," she said, scooting closer, "You don't mind me under the blankets eh? It's freezing tonight and I fear that with my wet clothes I might get hypothermia."

"Of course not," he said rather too quickly and scooted over to one side. He felt her damp shorts against his thigh. "You could change for something drier."

"That's nice. Where do I get them?" she immediately stood up again, going through the tumbled drawers.

He averted his eyes as she started removing her shorts and her shirt leaving her in her underwear. "How long...how long will it be before the world ends?"

"I'm not really sure...but based on my understanding a good forty-eight hours starting," she checked the small digital watch she pulled out from her shorts pocket, "Two in the morning. It's one forty, that gives us forty-eight hours and twenty more minutes to stop the end of the world."

He glanced at her and found her in one of his oversized shirts. She slipped back into bed, pulled the covers to her chin and said, "Would you help me? I really want to save the world."

"Why? Because of your grandfather? And why do I have to help?" he couldn't help but asked. He was an ordinary agent, ordered to process data for the old man, ordered by the old man to break some laws on certain banned data processing mechanisms. He should have heeded his guts when the old man showed him the certificates allowing him to do the banned processes. He shouldn't have believed. Now he was caught up in this situation.

"I don't know, maybe because I simply wanted to. Not just because of my grandfather. I don't even know why I have to save it but I feel that I must. The earth is nice. The world is nice. It's my home and yours too. And you need to help me because you're a good man," she rested her head against his shoulder. "Because my grandfather said you are the only one who can do it."

"Do what?"

She shrugged, "I don't know either. If I do I would have saved you. Like I would have the saved the world if I could alone. But I don't. And we have to figure this out together."

He kept silent for a long while.

"My grandfather has been researching about you for a while. He told me he finally found the key to finishing his research."

He furrowed his brows, "What do you mean, I am the key?" Does that mean all this was a set-up? A set-up to finally get him? So processing the old man's data five days ago was just a test? A test of what he can do? A test of what he cannot do?

She shrugged again, she scooted closer, pressing herself against his, "I don't know. But I'm glad you're the key. What do you say," she started, whispering into his ear, "After this...why don't I live with you?"

He looked incredulously at her. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," she said, "And you are thirty-one. At least I'm not half your age. Besides you had divorced your wife already eh?"

Right. He had been divorced for three years already. Three years of being detached from the world. Having no child probably was a good thing too, since having a kid would have only made the divorce more complicated. He had to give it to Tomoe for not wanting a kid.

"What do you say? We do not have to get married or anything...I really would like to have my own kids. I realized I would like them to have red hair."

He considered it in his head. Right now the idea sounded good. He looked at her intently, wondering where this, if this was a part of any plan, fit into the scheme of things. But she looked sincere as she traced his mouth and he realized he didn't mind having kids with blue eyes.

"So we have forty-eight hours to save the world from ending," he caught her hand.

"Yes. Forty-eight hours."

"What do you mean end of the world? Like it's going to explode or melt? You mean destruction, annihilation? What?"

"I don't know. My grandfather doesn't tell me about those things. He stopped telling me about his research when he found the package. Have you seen what's inside?"

He shook his head, "No idea. I didn't want to open it. There's something ominous about it."

"I felt it too," she closed her eyes, "I'm really glad you're the key. Could I touch you?"

"No," though of course he would like to. The pain from his gut was making him uncomfortable. Even talking was becoming uncomfortable. "I need to sleep. You need to sleep. We both need to sleep. A long day awaits us tomorrow."

"I know," she said her eyes closed still, "I don't want the world to end. I just met you."

He regarded her silently and whispered, "Go to sleep."

---

Kaoru was already awake by the time he opened his eyes. There was a warm feeling in his head and he looked up at her as she held his head above her chest. He could hear the even beats of her heart and he closed his eyes for a while, wondering about what she offered last night. "We have to get back to the laboratory first and see if there are clues."

He sat up, wiped sleep off his eyes and said, "Right. We don't know exactly where they took your grandfather."

"Do you think the world's going to end?" she watched him. She finally sat up too and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Let's hope not. I don't really understand much. And I hope that by the end of this everything would've been made clearer to me. I don't really like getting left out in the dark." There he goes, he scolded himself, getting whiny again.

"I'm sorry," and she pressed a palm on his chest.

"Don't be," he smiled sheepishly, "I just need to blame somebody. It lifts the pressure a little. Of course I know it's bad."

She smiled, stretched her arms and back and yawned, "I should really live with you after this. And have sex with you. I don't really know if it's going to work out but I think that it's really going to be good."

He cringed slightly.

"We have approximately forty-four hours and sixteen minutes before the end of the world," she said after checking her clock, "We could spare an hour to get to know each other better. I don't know how long you normally do it but I think an hour's long enough."

He blushed at how offhanded she said it, "Have you done it before?"

"Do I have to have done it before to do it with you? I mean I haven't done it before so does it bother you?" she asked, leaning closer.

He shrugged. Oh well, apart from the occasional sex and flings he had not been involved in any real relationship after the divorce. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism or something, a self-preservation technique, that he didn't get involve with any other woman seriously. He looked at her for a long time and thought that maybe he had been too un-detached for a very long time. Perhaps it was time he start creating ties.

"I really like you," she said smiling and leaned slowly to kiss his mouth. She stood up from the bed, slipped the oversized shirt off her and avoided the clutter on the floor as she opened the door to the bathroom. "And I'm really hoping I could have little redheads. We could spare an hour before saving the world. Join me in the shower if you want."

Kenshin smiled. He liked the smell of her morning breath. And he liked the feel of her lips and the curve of her body against his and the sound of her voice waking him up, no matter how hysterically, and the fact that she wanted to save the world without knowing from what and how and why. Best of all, he liked the prospect of having little redheads with blue eyes. He could give it a try. There was a plastic gauze or something that he could use on his wound anyway to prevent it from getting wet.

They have one hour to spare.

---

* * *

**A/n: **Tell me what you think...

* * *


	4. Hunger

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine...

**Author's Notes: **A little drabble...

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---

**Title: **Hunger

**Rating: **T

---

They went to dinner for the first time.

He was not surprised at how big her appetite was. He had seen her at work last time when he invited her over for dinner at his little apartment. He wasn't a great cook but he could throw in some stuff and make a decent meal. She complimented him by saying it wasn't just a decent meal.

"And I also told you I'd be staying over more times than necessary," she winked as she stood up, leaned across to his seat and placed a kiss on his lips.

He wasn't surprised that she polished off the main course in a couple of minutes. Rather he was surprised at his own voracious appetite, matching hers as if eating had been something he had not been doing for a long time.

She laughed when she heard him asking for another espresso. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah," he said, "I feel like I haven't eaten in forever."

"I feel like that everyday. This black hole of a stomach makes you appreciate things."

He smiled and emptied his cup.

"You have room for more I guess. I still have some frozen pizza and beer at home."

"Great," he got the check and picked up his light coat. "Come on."

She was giggling as he drove to her apartment.

---

She reheated the pizza, poured beer into a glass for her and gave him his unopened can. "I'm a bad drunk."

"How bad?"

"Mmm..." she settled against his shoulder. "Wonder why I have this big appetite?"

"No," he took a mouthful, "Medical condition?"

"Yeah," she nipped his earlobe which he decided he liked, "I spend on it too much, more than, I think, what normally normal people does."

"At least it's on food," he joked and earned a little pat.

The pizza was done in a couple of minutes. He took a hungry bite which she matched. Like the enormous feast they had at the restaurant, the pizza was gone soon.

Kenshin slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"Upstairs? Or is here okay?"

"Here's okay," he murmured, placing the beer bottle on the low table.

"Good," she giggled again.

---

He removed his watch and placed it neatly on the other table by the arm of the couch. He watched as she removed hers and placed it beside his. She had drawn the curtains, locked the doors and dimmed the lights.

A smile played on his lips as she slipped out of her cotton summer dress. She was wearing lacy panties and lacy brassiere and he decided he liked lace. Lace more than anything and he kissed her mouth just as soon. She laughed and pointed to the shirt he was still wearing.

He nodded and discarded the shirt and the pants, leaving them in a heap by the carpeted floor. He slipped his hands around her back, traced the bones from her shoulder blades down to her pelvis and kissed her slowly.

"Where did you say you were going?" she asked.

"Somewhere far," he murmured against her mouth.

"Are you coming back?"

"Hn..."

She settled into silence.

"I'll try to."

"Thanks," she kissed him, "I'm turning twenty three tomorrow."

"That makes me a year older."

"Yeah," and she watched him watch her, her fingers trailing down his chest, his abdomen. She remained silent for a long while until finally she said, "It's like a blackhole."

"What is?" he asked, his mouth on her navel.

"You leaving."

"Ah," he stood up, brought his mouth on level with hers and thought for a really long while. "I want to be honest with you."

"Okay," she kissed him back.

"I don't know how long I will be gone. Maybe a week, a month, a year, forever. I don't know where I am going."

"Ah..." she let her eyes wander away from his face. "Is this...is this part of what you do?"

"Probably." His work. How simply she put it. "I've never been this hungry all my life."

She laughed, "Probably it's the blackhole."

"Probably," and he had his mouth on hers and felt a sudden surge of hunger overpower him. He knew what it meant. He had been too indifferent for so long. Now his hunger was overtaking him. Now that he needed to go.

"Make this last," she whispered.

"I will," he promised.

She smiled. Kaoru knew she'd wake up alone tomorrow.

---

* * *

**A/n: **So how was it?

* * *


	5. Darkness

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

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**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine…

**Author's Notes: **So a little background on this shot…this is about the Darkness Festival held, I don't know when in Japan, it is known as the Rokusha Myoujin Ceremony or the other name which I couldn't remember. Just google Darkness Festival if you want to find out more about it. Anyway, the thing is, during this festival lights are all turned off as the pilgrims head to the shrine. Men then take advantage of the girls and rape them and since it's not allowed to utter a single, small sound during this festival rape cases were not reported. This was the case before, during the earlier eras. I don't know about now. I've tried researching but couldn't find more on this topic. Anyway, I kind of twisted the idea a bit and what happens here is quite different from what really happens. So there, but the basic idea of the festival is there. So tell me what you think.

Read and review!

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**Title: **Darkness

**Rating: **M

---

She was not surprised at the sudden movement; lean, strong arms caught her from behind, snaking about her waist.

It was the time when the lanterns were put out, the Male God meeting with the Female, a grand event, when the world was dark and the gods were walking the earth for the first time. It was sacrilegious to make a sound, and her scream died in her throat as the arms that captured her slowly slid the sleeves of her kimono down her shoulders.

She watched as the sky grow from dim to dark, felt her blood rushing to her ears as she felt a pair of hot hands touching her where no one should touch her. She was slowly brought down on the grass, a moist film covering the ground as a lantern above provided a faded glow. One by one the lanterns will come alive, the copulation of the gods complete, then everyone will celebrate.

Her mouth went dry as her legs were nudged slightly apart, her body growing numb, unable to move, protest. She felt helpless.

"Kaoru," a hush. A little hush that broke the rules of the matsuri.

Her pupils dilated, her head turned towards the voice, a deep baritone, slight tremors, gentle, soothing. Her hands involuntarily shot up, touching the face, the mouth, the nose, the cheeks, the eyes. "Kenshin?"

"Yes," and a kiss on the mouth. A fiery kiss, hushed yet all at once intense. She knew this was wrong, this was not to be...but tonight, tonight is different. His hands caught her own, brought them above her head and whispered, "Mine."

"Yours," she responded, "The darkness…it will not last…"

"I know," he traced the line of her mouth with his own, down her collarbone, down the open lapels of her kimono. "You are moving to Kyoto tomorrow."

"I am," she touched his hair. She could see it clearly in her mind's eye, the red fiery mane, the golden orbs, hungry and possessive, the strong bridge of his nose, the shape of his face, the line of his mouth, his lean chest, hard against her own, crushing her beneath him, his hands, hot and voracious. She could see him, see him in her mind, she could remember, just as well as she could feel him, like the first time he laid her down on the hay to make love to her. It was hours before dawn and the air was damp and chilly and he laid her down and undressed her with his hands and eyes and mouth and he kissed every inched of her, tasted every bit of her skin and whispered prayers on every part of her.

"I will take you away," he said, steel in his voice. He caressed her slowly, seeing the light reflected in her eyes.

"You cannot. I am a slave."

"I will," he kissed her soundly, moving above her, coaxing her, reassuring her with both words and caresses.

Blood pounded into her ears, his scent assailed his senses, making her throb with need. She was not sure of many things, but as he kissed her, touched her, made her his, she realized it didn't matter. It was only about him. About him and her.

He held her tight, tight as he moved, always, always gentle, gentle with a fiery intensity, just like before, just like the rare times they had the chance to be together.

She clawed his back, bit her lower lip and muffled a cry from her mouth. How long has it been? Ah, she closed her eyes, his mouth on the valley between her breasts, chances like this were rare. She cannot be with him, him of noble birth. Only in the darkness can she be with him. She looked up, the lanterns slowly being lit up. The Male deity had met with her Female consort. The joining had been done, they were one. She turned back to watch his face and she knew, his incredibly beautiful face was hers alone. She knew he was hers. Inasmuch as she was his. "Yours," she mouthed.

"Kaoru," he whispered, his hold getting tighter. His kisses more intense, urgent, the darkness being lifted. "I'm taking you away. Where we wouldn't need to hide anymore."

She took in mouthfuls of air, the need heavier. She could see the orange light reflecting the scarlet hue of his hair, creating a halo around his face. She dug her fingernails against his back, knew that it hurt, knew that he wouldn't mind. She gasped, low, praying, whispering to the gods, hoping. She felt a prickling in her eyes, her breathing more ragged as she tried to muffle her own cries.

His eyes were on hers, watching the lighting of the lanterns through her. "It's almost over," he whispered, a fleeting touch of his lips on her mouth. The gates will be opened soon. Freedom will come by dawn.

She nodded, convulsing, feeling her blood rushing to her face, her body becoming alive, sensitized and free. She whimpered, a low whispered whimper, and she buried her face in his red hair just as he moved to ease her garments on her. The lanterns are almost all lit up. The matsuri was almost over. The darkness was almost over. Their time was almost over.

He stood up and helped her on her feet. He smiled as her knees buckled under her, he caught her, kissed the top of her head and dusted off her kimono. It was a new one, a new kimono he had slid under her door to give to her. He told her to wear it tonight. Tonight at the matsuri.

"Kenshin," she looked up hesitantly to meet his eyes.

"In an hour," he said, his mouth on hers once more, "I'll meet you at the bridge in an hour."

"Yes," she said hoarsely, her foot taking a step forward as if to follow him. She reached for him but he had taken a step away. "In an hour," she repeated and watched as his figure melted into the receding darkness.

---

* * *

**A/n: **You know the drill guys…

* * *


	6. Abrupt

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine…

**Author's notes: **Okay this is different from the others, this is waff, light, funny (I hope), so different from what I had been doing for this series. But anyway, humor is something more natural to me than angst, so it would be a sort of a break…

Anyway, hope you like it.

* * *

---

**Title: **Abrupt

**Genre: **Humor/Romance

**Rating: **T

---

Kaoru didn't hear the breaking of glass nor the footsteps on her wooden floor that when she stepped out of the shower in a towel she didn't expect anything unusual. But unsuspecting as she was a hand quickly shot up in front of her and pinned her against the wall, a mouth suddenly covering hers, while her body went rigid to jelly until she felt like collapsing.

"Don't make any sound," the man hissed. Under normal circumstances Kaoru would have raised a brow, for saying something like "don't make a sound" and having a mouth over her own mouth was redundant. Regaining a bit of her presence of mind, her eyes flew open and she saw the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her entire twenty-three years of young life.

"Don't move," and yet again her brows would have shot up higher under normal circumstances, for pining her against the wall and saying "don't move" would be too much redundancy for her vocabulary. She frowned a little. Good thing he was a redhead, with a perfect nose, sexy mouth and oh-so-possess-me golden eyes, if he wasn't she would have showed her some black-belter moves. But he was so she stayed still and realized that since she was the "victim" here she might as well make the most out of the circumstances. She leaned closer, her body forming against his and started kissing back.

She imagined she heard a little chuckle and felt her own lips forming a smile against the kiss. The redhead released her hands to have his own settle around her waist, one moving up to cradle her neck while hers found their way up to his chest, to grab on to whatever rough material he was wearing since her legs are starting to buckle under her from the intensity. The stranger was a good kisser. She told herself the redhead smelled nice too, sandalwood, pine. She liked it and she tilted her head to let him have better access.

The man had her against the wall, the push reminding her that she was wearing nothing but a towel and that in fact it was threatening to fall off any minute now. She wanted to hitch it up but her senses were all blown away when his tongue invaded her mouth. A few more seconds of his mind-blowing stunt and her knees gave out and he caught her, along with the towel and he smiled at her as he tried to haul her back to her feet. She knew her face was so red and she couldn't quite look up and she couldn't move her arms to adjust the towel, the arm around her ribcage was the only reason why it wasn't falling off. She felt him adjusting her towel with his free hand causing her to blush but she nevertheless looked up at him and she saw him smiling, watching her intently and she found herself blushing even more.

He slipped a hand through his pocket and flipped open a badge. Police? Her brows furrowed. And as if on cue the redhead started, "We got a situation. For your safety and for the success of our mission please don't make any sound Miss." His voice was low, deep and she found herself nodding. After a few more straightening of her towel and after making sure she could stand on her own, he pulled back and removed his jacket and settled it around her.

Stepping back he went to her front door and unlocked it. Two men appeared, one lanky with spiky hair (she decided he resembled a rooster), the other stoic with dark hair (and she thought she looked like an ice cube). She thought she liked the redhead better, not because he had shown her already how a good kisser he was, but because she wasn't into tall men. She doesn't like men towering above her. And so she liked the redhead more, even though all were good-looking, it was just that redhead was more homey looking albeit the dangerous glint in his eyes, but that made him sexier, edgier, more intense. She couldn't quite grasp how it is possible to be more homey looking and at the same time dangerous looking.

"The target?" the stoic one started speaking. She noticed the redhead standing in front of her, as if covering her lack of clothes from the other men.

"Next door." The redhead beckoned to the wall.

"We have Saito and Seta at the fire exit," the rooster said.

"We move in at fifteen hundred sharp," redhead took the lead, standing against one corner of the wall while the other two stayed at the other side.

"Time?"

"Eleven minutes," rooster brushed his long sleeve to look at his watch.

"Ready," ice cube turned to her and he frowned.

Kaoru's eyes widened, frowning back she almost started speaking but the redhead quickly said, "Stay hidden in the bathroom." It sounded like an order and being a woman raised unused to receiving orders from men she almost gave a retort but since it wasn't some normal circumstance she realized she would save the retort for later. She almost turned towards the bathroom when redhead walked in front of her and placed a watch on her hand.

"What is this?" she asked, annoyed. She thought of something wickeder to say but it was all that came to her mind.

"I'll get it back after the mission," he said with a smirk, "Now go inside."

She frowned but nevertheless followed his order. It didn't take long before she started hearing a loud crash, gunshots, some shouting, sounds of rock and wood falling, crashing, plates and glasses breaking. She groaned when she realized that it was her apartment breaking. She almost cried. Now what?

---

The door opened abruptly, just as the noise ended unexpectedly. The rooster-head was standing by her doorway and with her anger raising she quickly grabbed whatever she first got her hand on and threw it on his face. She realized that it was a porcelain mug when she saw it hitting him in between the eyes. The rooster fell with a loud groan.

"That's for ruining my apartment you thugs," she panted, anger coming out in short uneven breaths.

"Missy," the rooster tried sitting up but was once again hit, by a bucket this time.

She had broken a couple of things herself throwing stuff at the rooster-head. Eventually a scary looking man and a smiling young boy came in without even knocking, as if knocking would be of use to her already brought-down door. They handed her a huge sum of money, for the repairs the young boy said and the scary one handed her another mug, to throw at the rooster-head some more for he deserved it.

In anger she let out a scream and in a fit of adrenaline rush started hauling whatever stuff she could grab among the ruins that she once called her apartment and hurtled them essentially driving everyone out. She collapsed as soon as she was left alone.

Alone, she realized she still has the redhead's watch and jacket.

Two weeks and there was no sign of him. She was beginning to lose hope, not that she hoped or anything. She just thought he might drop by to get his watch and his jacket and maybe they could go to dinner or see a movie or movies and then resume whatever they were doing the last time. No Kaoru wasn't hoping.

She stepped into the bathroom, turned the shower tap on and took in a deep breath. She hasn't even gotten his name and she hasn't even told him her name. How utterly stupid.

She had turned the shower full blast and she didn't hear the sound of her window sliding and her bathroom door creaking. She was only aware when the shower curtain flew open and she was pinned against the wall. Her heart pounded and blood rushed into her ears, she couldn't open her eyes.

"Your window is so easy to unlock."

She frowned. Of course she knew the voice. She opened her eyes , "You..."

"Yes," he smirked.

And in relief, both in seeing him and in realizing it was just him and not some thug, and in extreme vexation at having been both frightened and left alone waiting, she jerked her hand up and in a swift movement hit his beautiful face. He cringed.

"Bastard," she cursed heavily, breathing hard.

He smiled, laughed a little and moved closer, liking the challenge, "I am Kenshin." He was starting to get wet, water dripping from his hair. Kaoru suddenly realized how extremely naked she was this time and started to blush. "And you are?" he was still smiling, his eyes starting to roam her.

"Kaoru," she arched a brow, Kenshin, it sounded nice. She tapped his face away from her, "And look away. I could sue you for sexual harassment and trespassing you know."

"Hmm..." he moved closer, literally speaking into her mouth, one hand moving to touch her from her arm down to her waist, "I like your name. Nice meeting you Kaoru," and he had his mouth against hers.

---

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**A/n: **You know the drill guys…

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	7. Codes

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

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**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine…as well as FMA…not a crossover just so you know…

**Author's Notes: **Think Central in FMA for the setting, though I should be discouraging you to do that since the setting's quite different. I don't want you to think RoyRiza for this though it is very suggestive haha. I actually got the idea while watching FMA Brotherhood, actually too much of the idea came from it. But anyway, since I doubt Roy would do what I had Kenshin do here and since I guess Kaoru here was un-Riza (and more Kaoru-like), I had to make it KenKao and besides I haven't written any FMA fic. So there. Hope you like this one, angst at the beginning, diluting towards the end…

Read and review!

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---

**Title: **Codes

**Rating: **T just to be sure

---

She had never been this afraid in her life. She watched as his hands go limp, the smile on his face fading as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness. She held his hand as he was slowly being hoisted up into the stretcher, swiftly reeled inside the emergency room. She hadn't known she had been shouting, she hadn't known she had been crying.

She had scolded him, the minute he appeared beside her, katana in hand, sheath on the other. He wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be somewhere safe. He was designated the overseer and she had told him, time and again, that whatever happens to them he was not to be involved. His safety was what matters most.

But he had to be such a bastard to have come down there, stepping in front of her as he returned each blow. He was smirking the whole time and she was trying to pull him out. He was her colonel and as his lieutenant it was her duty to keep him safe. Some military higher-ups were keen on getting him silenced, and this being an operation to reel them in she did not want him involved here. She knew it was going to be bloody.

Jin-eh disappeared and her colonel decided to split into two. Two of her members came back and they followed the criminal into a run-down building. He said he was taking Sano, the rooster whose unlimited stamina he makes up for his lack of thinking capacity and told her to stay close with Aoshi. He instructed the latter to protect her. She scolded him, told him to switch partners. He should take Aoshi for she was sure he would be able to protect the colonel more, not that she doesn't believe in the rooster's capability. It was just that the colonel had been fighting a lot longer with the stoic Aoshi.

He only shook his head, ruffled her hair and smiled, then he and the rooster disappeared. She cursed out loud, surely he had heard it and followed Aoshi to the left wing of the building.

She could not remember much after that. They say shock does that to people. All she could remember was a chase, blurred, blood and then more chase until they reached a dead end where her companion fought an undying mix of flesh and bones and slowly lose consciousness. Then Jin-eh reappeared.

Like with the other events she could not remember what she did next when Jin-eh informed her that the colonel has died. Anger rose in her, something she had never felt before in her entire twenty-four years of life and she sprang, a pistol in hand, shooting and shooting still until she ran out of ammunition and she had to unsheathe the sword from her side. She struck, was sure she had swiped off a finger and struck again when her knees gave out and sent her tumbling down. She let out a cry of pain as the criminal brought one decaying finger to hold her face, a katana held up high as he started to strike.

And that was when an explosion hit him. And then another and another. Red flames and she could see the silhouette of her colonel in the not so far distance. He was bleeding, there was a long gash on his side. His face was without expression yet she could tell he was exhausted. His knees buckled a little and he swung forward, his red hair loose about his shoulders, his katana ready to strike.

There was another explosion and she knew he would collapse any minute now. He should not overuse his skill or he would get drained. And he was bleeding. She tried to stand up but Aoshi was suddenly beside her, preventing her from moving.

"Let me," she had cried. But he only shook his head and watched as another explosion went off and then another. The sound kept ringing in her ears. She could not remember how long until it ended. The sound kept ringing until after it was over.

She rushed, her body shaking, watching him smirk at her. She inched closer and her eyes widened as he suddenly collapsed, his hands with blood, his face pale.

"Taisa!" she called out as she caught him in her arms.

"Hn..." he smirked again, "That was fun...wasn't it?"

"Hang on..." she did not know she had started crying.

---

She did not know when she had fallen asleep. The nurses told her he was fine and asked her to stay in a room at the end of the corridor. Unlike the other rooms, the smell of antiseptic was less here. She was still shaking. She was still crying.

The others had been treated. Sano passed out from losing much blood but he was awake now. His wife, a doctor, was tending to him now. Aoshi was allowed to go home. She was too but she wanted to stay and see the colonel but they would not let her.

She was shaking so bad she had to bite her pillow to stop her teeth from chattering. The nurses said he was better but she had to see him to confirm it. She shifted, wiped the tears from her eyes, took in a sharp breath and felt sleep coming.

She sat up suddenly when she heard the door jamb moving. She pulled the pistol she slipped under the mattress and called out, "Who's there?"

"Kamiya-shoi."

She stiffened, squinted and as the door opened wider letting some light stream in, she saw the outline of his face, the flash of red from his hair. Her eyes widened, "Himura-taisa!" She stood up, went to his side, switched on the lamp and closed the door. She led him to the bed. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't sleep," he said frowning, "You know how much I hate the smell of hospitals."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. There's no need to worry," he waved a hand at her and settled comfortably on the bed with a little groan. He was holding his side as he lay down.

"No need to worry?" she exasperatedly exclaimed. "Look at you. You almost got yourself killed and you tell me not to worry?"

"The keyword is almost. I did not get killed," he smiled lazily.

"Himura-taisa," she gritted her teeth. How could he act so cool about it?

"Come here," he scooted over, patted the space beside him and repeated, "Come here."

"What?" she reddened automatically.

"This room smells less of antiseptic. It's good you stayed behind," he patted the space again, "Come here. And it's an order Kamiya."

She mouthed an incomprehensible "Pervert!" but she nevertheless slipped in beside him. She kept distance.

"You're going to fall if you stay there," he said as he stretched an arm, groaned a little, and pulled her close. "You are shaking," he whispered into her hair.

"Himura-taisa..." she was blushing and she felt the telltale prick of tears.

"Your eyes are red and puffy," he whispered again, his hand brushing softly against her arm. "I'm sorry to have made you worry."

She fought back the urge to cry and she took in sharp breath. She felt him coaxing her to face him and slowly she did so. She met his amethyst eyes and fisted the lapels of his hospital gown. She gritted her teeth, tightened her jaw, swallowed hard and said, "Stupid."

He smiled, settled his hands tentatively on her arms. He grinned and allowed his hands to circle her waist, urging her closer.

"Stupid," she murmured again. Involuntarily she felt her own hands travelling up to his shoulders, to his neck, to finally hold his face. She touched the scar on his cheek. She gazed deep into his eyes. Years of unnamed feelings in every gesture, every movement, every touch, every word and she caught his lips in hers in an unhurried kiss.

She pulled back, watched his eyes watch her. Her hands slowly moved down to settle on his broad shoulders, blood rushing into her ears. She had kissed him. She knew this could go two ways. From here, no matter what the turn-out may be, she knew she would be alright with it. He was her colonel, she had known him for three years, she had felt for him for so long. He may or may not reciprocate the feelings. But it doesn't matter as long as he is alive, well and safe.

She smiled, the shaking never stopping and slowly she freed him from her grasp. She knew, more or less, where she stands and she was ready to accept. She had almost removed her curled fingers from the material of his hospital gown when he suddenly slid his hands to hold her face and return the kiss.

She frowned, confused and his hold tightened and his kiss became urgent. She responded, unsure of how and he let one hand slide down to touch the small of her back, to bring her closer.

He pulled back slowly, his breath brushing her lips as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"T-taisa?" she let her hands curl around his waist, bunching the cloth.

"Sleep," he commanded, he slid down a little, tucked his head under her chin, his mouth brushing softly against her neck and slept.

---

He was not on her bed when she woke up. She asked the nurses and was told that against the doctor's orders he had left saying it was just a small wound. She went home, showered, got dressed and went to the district office. Sano and Aoshi were back on their desks. She was late and the colonel was already at his table talking to someone animatedly on the phone. He sounded like he was talking to a woman. He sounded like nothing had ever happened to him. To them.

His eyes went to hers as she sat down on the desk beside hers. He ended the phone call, arched a brow and said to her in a formal tone, "You are late lieutenant."

She immediately stood up, her face frowning and said, "I apologize."

"Make a report. I need it this afternoon." He said as if nothing had happened.

She frowned again, thought of a smart retort but saw that he had already started another phone call. She looked down, glared at the floor and whispered, "Yes Sir..."

---

Lunch just ended when she suddenly got pulled in a room full of dusty old files, got shoved against a shelf, the stacks pushing against her back, and a mouth suddenly catching hers just as she was about to curse.

The kiss was more urgent, fiery, intense and she caught the scent of sandalwood and pine and she almost went limp. She allowed her hands to travel up to circle his neck, her toes curling up to allow him better access, her body growing pliant, molding against his hard one.

He pulled back for a moment, for breath, and started kissing her again, his hands circling her waist, rubbing against her back, letting her black hair loose as he pulled on her hair tie. He smirked against the kiss as she let out a little moan and he pulled her tighter, shoved her harder against the shelf and hoisted up her one leg to hook around his waist.

And he was abruptly gone. She blinked, her knees shaking, her heart palpitating, her hair dishevelled, her lips swollen. And she was suddenly very mad and very pissed. He was playing with the wrong person, she would surely give him a piece of her mind.

---

He was not in his desk when she came back. The others were there. Second lieutenant Misao offered to make her a cup of tea. She looked ruffled she said and her face was very red, was she sick? She shook her head, sat down and continued doing the report. The colonel said it was needed this afternoon.

He appeared suddenly, a bunch of papers on his hand. Everyone was hushed, staring, listening, watching. Misao once asked if they were going out? They were too close she said, and people had been asking.

"Here," he placed the papers on her desk.

"What are these?"

"I filed a leave for next week," he said seriously.

"Is that so?" she asked, not getting anything. Was it another mission? They usually talked in codes. Were they talking in codes now?

"There's a copy of my application."

She frowned again, "And?" maybe they were talking in codes. Another operation? She looked over at Aoshi and Sano who both looked as confused as she was.

"And yours are underneath. Just copy mine. I'll approve them. Just hand them to me before the day ends."

"Taisa—"

"We both need a vacation."

She frowned once more, furrowed her brows more for emphasis, "I think—" _what are you doing?_

"No," he shook his head, "Nothing work-related." He crossed his hands on his chest which meant he was serious.

Her eyes widened.

"And I'd like to spend a week with you. I'd approve the papers so give them to me before the end of the day."

"Also," he bent closer, his words brought to a whisper, "Stop calling me taisa. I have a name too. Alright _Kaoru_?," and before he walked back to his desk he pointed at a word on the topmost part of the displayed paper.

She followed his finger and read "Kenshin..." Her eyes widened and she caught Misao grinning. She felt her cheeks burning and slowly she stole a glance at her colonel and found that he was looking at a document. She watched him, waited for a signal, for anything that would tell her it was part of a secret operation, of a set of codes but there was none and her heart palpitated and she felt out of breath.

She was still staring at him when he lowered the document, met her gaze and smiled, a smile that was entirely different from the one she usually sees on his face. A little smile that made her stomach do a double over. He tilted his head a bit, beckoned to the papers and arched his brow a little. She nodded, felt heat coming to her face. He was serious.

She knew next week would be interesting.

---

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**A/n: **Well?

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	8. Drunk

**Fall from Grace**

**By hye-kyo**

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**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine.

**Author's Notes: **So I haven't updated in a really long while. This is quite different, a little angsty, a little on the humor side, probably some drama, nothing fantastic here. I apologize if I haven't replied to most reviews but I am very happy everytime I see a review. So, this is the latest, hope you all like it.

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---

**Title: **Drunk

**Rating: **T

**Genre: **General, Romance, Humor/Drama

---

No, no. Kaoru was never afraid. She was never afraid of her stupid slip of a husband. Make that almost ex-husband.

No she wasn't afraid. She was merely surprised to see him at her doorstep, drunk, sobbing while she on the other hand was also drunk and well, sobbing quite as much.

She was not sad. No, she wasn't. She was merely remembering how things led to this, to this utterly nonsensical thing called divorce. She was merely imagining how she would be much better off without having to go through with it.

And so they both stood there at her doorstep, both drunk and sobbing.

---

Of course. Of course he was always faithful. No, no, you're getting it wrong. The divorce was merely due to a misunderstanding. Kenshin knew his wife, she would never be his ex-wife, has the tendency to blow things out of proportion. This was one of those things, apart from all the other things before. But things like this that happened in the past had never been blown so out of proportion.

No, nothing in the past. So he had gone out of his mind thinking of a way to stop this stupid mess called divorce. No he doesn't want to let go of her.

---

Maybe because she was drunk, she let him in. Yes, it was all because of drunkenness, yes, she was drunk because she had finished a bottle of beer. Just a bottle of beer. So she was probably drunk because if she wasn't she wouldn't have let him in. So she was drunk, drunk because of a bottle of beer. And people say she's a hard drinker.

"I don't want to leave," he murmured, sitting on the couch.

She swallowed hard. Kaoru knew he had been staying over at a friend's house after she had thrown him out of the house.

"I want to stay with you."

She frowned. No, she wasn't going to go easy on him. She had enough of it.

"I don't know what to do without you."

Oh, the standard lines. Just like in the movies. She stood up, "I've had enough of your womanizing."

"Womanizing?" he stood up too, "I've never been unfaithful."

She rolled her eyes.

"You know perfectly well that Tomoe and I are just—"

"Right," she said, trying to slur her words to sound drunk, "You and her are just on a professional relationship."

"Please…" he took a step towards her.

Right. Professional. She had heard that line from somewhere in a Western movie. Of course from the moment she heard that Tomoe, his ex was going to work with him she had been more cautious, more observant, probably a bit more fidgety, and a bit more symbolist. Of course not, it wasn't all symbolisms. She knew that something was happening beyond the symbols and the symptoms.

"I don't want to lose you."

"Kenshin," it hurts to say his name, "Please leave now."

He swallowed hard. She could see it from the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Don't talk to me anymore. You know where to contact my lawyer." And she turned around.

--

Yes he's drunk. He joined Sano, his best buddy and his housekeeper/landlord for the meantime, at a pub. After a shot, Kenshin thought he was drunk and decided to see his wife.

Well the reason for all of this was his ex-girlfriend. Kaoru had always been a bit insecure about her. Not that it was her fault. It was more of his actually. Tomoe came back to the country, joined the company where he was working and was eventually assigned to work with him. Fate. Or something similar.

So Kaoru had a jealous streak. She complained how he suddenly talked too much about his ex, which…well, was true. She complained how he suddenly lost time for her, which includes dinners together, movies and lovemaking. So yes, he had lost time. But not because of his ex, it was because the company was preparing for its twenty-fifth anniversary. Yeah, and this was his fault because he never explained it to her.

So when she told him to not talk to her anymore and contact her lawyer instead he felt the sudden urge to grab her arm, turn her around and kiss her senseless.

And that was what he did.

---

Kaoru pulled back, stared at Kenshin for a time and realized that since she was drunk she has a license to do whatever it was that she wanted to do. She could always say she was drunk as an excuse anyway.

So she kissed him back. Furiously.

---

Kenshin knew he doesn't want to go anywhere else. No matter how both imperfect a combination the two of them make, no matter how imperfect the match maybe, he knew that he doesn't belong anywhere else but here, in her arms, with her.

---

And they were kissing each other ferociously when Kenshin said, "Kaoru I—" and Kaoru silenced him and started kissing him again. Well, she was playing drunk…no, make that really drunk. Who could blame her? And she is still so in love…

He drowned out all words and instead slipped his hands underneath her shirt, traced the underwire of her brassiere and remembered all too well the familiar curve of her breasts, the perfect fit against his palms and not wanting to simply wallow in memories he slipped his hands underneath and unclasped the buckle. And he heard her moan.

She felt restless, an ache building in between her thighs, a knot forming in her abdomen. She knew she wanted him, just as much as he wanted her, and that there would be no other man in her life, only this stupid redhead. She tugged at his shirt, at his buckle and at the fly of his pants.

"I love you," he whispered against her skin when he had fully undressed her. He was desperate, he was beginning to feel so desperate. He didn't want to lose her, he knew, from the moment he saw her at the kendo competition that she was going to be the one. She looked so beautiful in her gear, laughing, her hair in a messy ponytail, sweat glimmering from her temples to her neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of her already drenched shirt, her eyes blue and bright. He knew he was suddenly so in love.

"I love you too," she whispered back, coaxing him back up to kiss his mouth, to remind herself of what he feels like, of what he tastes like. She felt like she could breathe again, even though his mouth was on hers, she felt like she was suddenly so alive. Could she? Could she give it another chance?

"Don't leave me," he whispered as he kissed every inch of her body, as he tasted, touched and felt every part of it, as he made love to her with eyes, mouth, tongue, hands, skin and soul as if it was very first time they had made love, as if it was the only time they would make love.

She closed her eyes. Maybe. Maybe another chance.

---

She feigned hangover when she woke up the following morning. His head was on her breasts, his hair pooling about and his arms around her. She frowned, stirred a little, she knew he wakes up from the slightest of movements, and yawned.

"Good morning," he wiped sleep from his eyes. He moved up, his chest against her breasts and she reddened, looked away and frowned.

"Get off," she said, trying to act grumpy. She squirmed but he had kept her in place, "I said get off."

"You said you love me too," he said teasingly, kissing the corners of her mouth.

"I don't remember," though she could remember clearly, "I was drunk remember?"

"Hmm…drunk…right," and he grinned, nipped at her lower lip and started rubbing on her arm. His mouth moved down to her neck, to the sensitive area under her ears and let his tongue run little circles on her heated skin.

She fought a moan. "Get off. Get off you pervert."

"You said you love me too," he was smiling against her skin, his hands trailing down to touch her everywhere. She shuddered and she started squirming.

"Kenshin," she cried out but nevertheless let him continue.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Shut up!" she hit him, which made him wince and laugh.

"I'd stop if you say you'd continue with the divorce," he said, teasing her, whispering in her ear, stroking her. He could feel the pounding of her heart against his own and he suddenly had a vision of himself holding a little redhead with sparkling blue eyes. He smiled to himself. "I love you."

She buckled underneath and a moan escaped her mouth, she was pleading with her body yet her eyes were defiant.

"Fine," he said, a playful glint in his eyes, "I'd stop now." And he suddenly stood up.

Kaoru suddenly tackled him down, taking down back on the bed, underneath her and landed a punch on his gut. He coughed. "Alright," she swallowed hard, "I'd decide after you finish what you started. I'd give you another chance if you make me scream. Otherwise, I'm signing the divorce papers." Yet she knew she was going to chuck the papers in the wastebasket later.

His eyes widened, a grin forming on his mouth and suddenly he was on top of her, her naked form under the gaze of his golden eyes and with a feral smile he said slowly, "Yes Ma'am."

"Good," she smiled, lovingly, and felt tears on the corners of her eyes. How stupid. She almost laughed at herself, at the two of them but his mouth was suddenly on hers.

"I'm sorry," he broke the kiss and rested on the crook between her neck and shoulder.

"Shut up," she said, punching him playfully, "Make me scream or else…" she laughed out loud.

He watched her face, run his fingers through her hair and touched her lips. "More than scream koishii. You will do more than scream," and he was suddenly kissing her and teasing her and his hands were everywhere and his mouth was everywhere and she was moaning and laughing and crying.

"Kenshin," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him, "I love you too." Later that day, she burnt the divorce papers and threw the remains in the wastebasket.

---

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**A/n: **So cheesy ne?

* * *


	9. Banal

**Fall from grace**

By hye-kyo

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**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine.

**Author's Notes: **So I had not updated in a looooooooooooong while I know. And I am hoping this piece would appease most of you, if you're still there. Anyway, the Handmaid's Tale was the inspiration for this. Read it and be inspired too.

Read and review.

* * *

**Title: **Banal

**Rating: **M

* * *

Like her, his task was to reproduce. He sent her a long look from out of the corner of his eye. Unlike her though, the authorities were more lax with him. He was free to roam the city alone, provided he has a pass, provided he was wearing the proper attire, provided the guards weren't newbies. New ones tended to be stricter. A couple of newbies stationed at the West Gate shot one of them. He particularly didn't like the man though, but still they were of the same class.

Unlike her, he has more rights. Unlike her, he is a man.

Change came abruptly, like how things happen in the movies, long before movies were allowed, long before cinemas were open. He could still watch movies, they play movies at the Garden once every month. His class could, hers couldn't. The authorities say women should not watch movies, movies aren't important for reproduction.

But anyway, he glanced again at her and realized he couldn't see her face fully. The veil was covering too much of her. He wondered if she had blue eyes, he liked blue eyes. Once, once when men and women were allowed to mingle with each other.

He cleared his throat when the guard left. Now the task at hand. He turned fully to her. He was sure the guard had left them alone. At least they were granted that, a bit of privacy. But the guard wasn't very far off. Sex was for reproduction and nothing more. The guard was to make sure of that, any sound deemed unfitting would be reported and they both would be subjected to torture and worse, be hanged for state treason.

His eyes skimmed her, from her veiled face down her loose dress. All he saw was fabric. "I'm Kenshin," he started, it was a conversation he learned in the past when he was still a student at the university, when the world was still free to do anything. Now it was free from harm, or so they say. It was free from inequality, the state had been providing for everything. Freedom to explore one's own potentials had been given up to have freedom from Darwinian law. There was no survival-of-the-fittest, the state cares for everything.

It was two sides of the same coin: freedom to and freedom from. Both limiting. He read once, when they were still allowed to read, that real freedom was accepting the fact that you can't totally be free.

He looked up at her, took a step forward and stretched a hand to touch her veil. He wished she would have black hair. He liked black hair.

"Do you remember me?" a voice, a quiver, as if the voice hadn't been used in a long while, as if the owner of the voice had only started learning how to use it.

"Do I?" his eyes squinted, his hands now on her veil. He slowly eased it down.

"I am Kaoru," she whispered and took a step forward.

He liked blue eyes and black hair. How long has it been? "Kaoru." He touched her face.

"Stop," she said. "You are not supposed to touch my face."

"I have touched it many times before."

"That was before."

"We could bring before back here," his eyes were intent on her.

"But we couldn't—" and a kiss, a fiery, urgent kiss, breathless, awkward, like the first time, but honed, familiar like this is what they had been doing all their lives.

He walked her down the bed, fumbling with the dress she was wearing. He was familiar with everything underneath it yet all at once he felt exhilarated like it was the first time, nervous, excited, in love. After all these years, after all the changes.

"Kenshin," she murmured into his mouth as soon as he released her.

"Where have you been?"

"At the training center," she kissed his mouth slowly, a lingering hotness in her mouth and she whispered again, "I was in hiding when they caught me. They brought me to the training center. This household was my first."

"And the man of the house couldn't do it?" he knew of course. The old man and his wife needed a child. They were one of the elites, but elites as they are they couldn't produce an heir. This was a state of the old. Younger ones were only seen for reproduction.

"He couldn't. Not even once. From the beginning I was told. I knew it was you the moment I saw you pass the driveway."

He smiled, kissed her yet again and whispered, "Resistance is building underground."

"I know," she unbuttoned his shirt.

He slipped her out the dress. She was more beautiful, more alive and he remembered tasting every inch of her but he couldn't quite recall the taste of her in his mouth. He dipped slowly, teasing himself and just like he knew it, he almost lost himself in her taste.

She covered his mouth with hers to stifle his groan, "Kenshin."

"I love you," he traced the words in her mouth, like a brand, like a sculpture carved in rock. He knew it would never fade. "I will take you away before your contract ends here," he whispered, a caress on her skin. He brought one hand to touch her, and she writhed, a pained whimper from her mouth, the sounds she stifled by biting his shoulder.

"How?"

"Through the Resistance."

"That's dangerous," she whispered apologies to his skin, dipping her tongue to soothe the pain, holding him close to her, pressing her naked self more closely to him.

"No other man will touch you," he hissed, moving down her collarbone, down her breasts. He cupped one breast in his hand and remembered touching it, the feel of it, the weight of it.

"I hope I get pregnant," she prayed, closing her eyes as she felt him moving down.

"Of a boy," he smiled. He knew what they were doing was sacrilegious according to the rules. Sex was for reproduction, not pleasure. It was blasphemous to derive pleasure from it, state laws prohibit it. But he doesn't care, she was his and he was hers and his body cried for hers in just the same way that hers cried for his. He could feel her getting restless underneath him. He grabbed one thigh to settle her down.

"A boy that looks just like you. A little redhead," a smile formed on her mouth. Her voice broken. She tugged on him, pleading.

"With eyes like yours," he moved up, her body getting rigid. He hovered above her, kissed the top of her nose and whispered, "What would you name him?" Blood rushed to his ears as he started moving, one hand trapping hers above her head, one hand cupping her breast, his mouth skimming over her mouth, stifling both of their cries. He knew that after this, things would be back to their bleak state and that the dystopian dream, the utopian dream that went wrong, would continue to exist. This imperfect world that he and she were living now will be gone after this union.

"Kenji," she whispered back, "After you." She convulsed, her face flushed, beads of sweat on her forehead. She panted, tilted her face to beckon him to kiss her and moved her hands impatiently, telling him wordlessly to release her.

He had his mouth against her, his hand loosening its grip on her hands. He moved one hand down to cradle the back of her neck and pulled her closer for the kiss. He knew that whatever child they produce, the household will take it. She was merely to be a vessel, him a seed.

"Our time's almost up," she murmured, hearing footsteps.

"I know," he stood up, helped her on her feet and gathered her clothes. "I will take you away. Be ready."

"It's dangerous."

"Everything is. I will take you away and we will go back to how we were before."

"That sounds nice. I miss home."

"I miss you," and he took her once again in his arms, footsteps coming closer.

* * *

**A/n: **So how was it?


	10. Dragon dance

**Fall from grace**

By hye-kyo

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine.

**Author's Notes: **This might have a sequel or something. Or not.

* * *

**Title: **Dragon dance

**Rating: **M

* * *

It was during a dragon dance in the streets of Hong Kong when she saw him. The movements were fluid, almost lightweight, fast and incredibly fierce. It was the red hair that caught her eyes, the red among the red, a shade of red that was so incredibly mesmerizing her eyes kept on darting from the performance to him. It was the sort of deep, dark red that reminded her of blood.

He was across the street, the dragon dancers in between them, a sea of red silk separating them. His eyes were gold and if not for his intense presence she would have laughed for he was colored as a New Year dragon.

He caught her looking twice. When he caught her for the third time she flushed, cursed herself and started walking away. She still has to catch up with Misao.

"Going somewhere?" it was in Japanese and hearing her mother tongue surprised her.

A deep voice, languid, relaxed and fluid that made her stop and turn her head. There in front of her, the dragon dance blurring in the background, stood the red-haired man from across the street. She frowned.

"You were watching me," he said, sounding proud. She didn't like the tone of his voice and immediately raised a brow.

"You were one of the dancers. Of course I'd be watching you," she started walking away but in a sudden movement she found herself trapped against a wall. He wasn't that tall but he seemed to be hovering above her, his hands on either side of her head, his knee pressed against her leg.

"You heard my call didn't you?" his voice caressed her ears as his eyes roamed her face. She felt fear and excitement wash through her.

"Excuse me?" she tried to push him away but to no avail. His hands and body were like marble, his face like a god's. The thought made her blush and she quickly looked away. She took in a deep breath, "I'm going to scream if you don't let me go now."

"Scream all you want," he said smiling, "No one will hear you." He licked his lower lip. He smirked knowing how much she was watching him. "You heard my call. That's why you are here."

She was flustered, she has no idea whatsoever of what he was talking about. Taking another deep breath she turned to meet his eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about mister."

"So you lost your memories?" he cupped her face, his fingers touching her eyes, her nose her lips. Her thumb running circles on her cheek. "You forgot about me?" it sounded more like a statement than a question.

She began to be slightly concerned about the way he touched her face for it seemed to her, no her mind could not make it out, as if the sensations were very familiar, like her body was reacting to something she had experienced before, only her mind could not recall. The feeling, whatever it was, was at the tip of her tongue and she closed her eyes to try to remember. She brought her hands to touch his and pushed it away and the moment their skin lost contact the feeling was suddenly gone.

She took the opportunity to push him back.

"I don't know you," she murmured, yet her senses were betraying her words. She could remember the faintest pressure of his fingers on her cheeks and she shook her head. This was some stranger, and she doesn't know him, perhaps a practitioner of some form of magic, or cult, or whatever. She'd only get into trouble if she listens to him. She turned around, heading for an open alley.

"I am Kenshin and you know me," he said in the faintest of whispers.

Kenshin. And she felt a tug in her heart that made her suddenly out of breath and she turned around to face him, only he was already gone.

* * *

Must have been a retard or something, Misao had said.

She looked up into the ceiling, rested a palm on her forehead. She might be coming down with flu. She felt slightly feverish. Misao might be right.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

"You can't sleep?"

She immediately sat up. Was he here? Or did she just imagine it? She started for the lights but as she was about to get off the bed, she felt a body pushing her down. Now she was sure he was here.

"I came here to inform you," his mouth was curved in a smirk, his hands were caressing her face again and she hated the way her body reacted to it, to him. She tried to push him away but as if the events of earlier were being repeated, she found herself unable to move underneath him.

"Of what?" she would try to distract him and then break free of his hold, dash for the door and call the police when the chance presents itself.

"You are not going to get away from me. I could ready you like a book." He smirked, buried his nose in her hair and whispered in her ear, "I missed you a lot."

She froze, her vision going hazy, blurry. She closed her eyes, who is this man?

"I missed you so much Kaoru," he whispered again, one hand moving up to tilt her chin. He pulled up, watched her face and kissed her closed eyes.

"I don't know you," her heart was aching. She suddenly felt like she had to know this man, whoever he is. She had the most intense urge to wrap her arms around him, pull him close, memorize every line, every plane, every contour. She felt the telltale signs of tears.

"You know me," he whispered again.

* * *

**A/n: **So…tell me what you think.


	11. Parallel

**Fall from Grace**

**By hye-kyo

* * *

**

**Disclaimer: **Standard disclaimers apply.

**A/n: **This is super random, I really don't know what came over me and why I started writing this. The idea may be absurd.

* * *

**Title: Parallel**

**Rating: **T

* * *

When she thought the world was going to end, she stood in front of him, stripped off her clothes and begged him to take her.

Minutes after he called her someone else. Since the world was going to end, she thought it okay. Being called someone else while being with someone other than that someone else was okay as long as the world was going to end.

A couple of hours after, when she sat on the tub with the tap running, with him on the bed sleeping, she received a call from Misao saying that the prophecy has miscalculated and that the ending of the world will be in another three days.

People like her, she discerned, were eager to get away from the world. It was not her world after all and that minutes after the end, she would find herself back in the world where she came from. She knew that, as soon as this world ends, the man with the red hair lying on the bed will be gone and that she will be flung back home to her own world. So that being called someone else while you're really someone else is alright as long as the world's going to end since memories and feelings, including hurt, will disappear together with the disintegration of this world.

But since Misao said it would be in another three days, she felt the telltale signs of tears in her eyes. She wondered, would there be a parallel Kenshin back in her world? If so, would there be a parallel someone else whom he would call on? Perhaps. She found herself crying, wishing that the prophecy hasn't been miscalculated and that the end of the world will happen now.

The shower curtain moved and she looked up to find him, eyes heavy from sleep and hair bedraggled from the tumble and he stepped into the tub, took her in his arms and whispered, "Is it really okay? For you to go without telling me?"

She did not hide her surprise. Three more days, now that she thinks about it, is just three days and three days pass fast and that working through this conversation like a normal human would mean that the issue would not be resolved in probably two days, two days and probably then there would still be some minor unresolved issues, and that would leave just one day for holding-hands, hugging, whispering, caressing, and finally lovemaking. And by that time, as she would make her way through her unforgettable orgasm she would be transported back to her world never to realize where the heck that orgasm came from. And it all would be a dream.

"You know?" she finally responded. Just that simple thought took a couple of seconds.

"Of course. You think you could leave like this?"

"I'm Kaoru if you're missing that."

"I know you're Kaoru. That's why I was asking you," he said. He had started kissing her neck, she had leant her head against the side of the tub. She could feel the distinctive bulge against her inner thigh and she thought that she could make do with three days of lovemaking with him. Even if he calls her someone else. Besides every feeling will disappear in three days.

"Ah," she didn't respond. She closed her eyes and felt him move against her, within her, the water warm around her. "Did you know that everything will end in three days?"

"I know," he said. "That's why I called you someone else."

"Hn? What do you mean?" she touched his hair, kissed the bridge of his nose and the lobe of his ear. She murmured his name and whispered many wordless phrases as he moved.

"Do you think the prophecy miscalculates?" he stopped his ministrations and met her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she watched his purple eyes flash gold as if in mischief.

"It's easy to tamper with the prophecy," he said, "I'm a rocket scientist if you get my drift."

A tug pulled at the corner of her lips. No she did not understand.

"The world ended for most people like you minutes ago." He smiled, kissed the corners of her mouth soundly and continued, "Coming back is harder than not coming back."

Her eyes remained trained at him.

"I just made sure you missed the message the moment they sent it," he kissed her full bottom lip. "I had Misao misinform you of the time of the end of the world."

"She told me it was bound in three days," she kissed him back.

"Just to let you stay here a couple more minutes. Because if you didn't until I wake up, you would be wandering around the streets thinking why you're still here. Truth is, I had earlier told her to tell you the wrong time."

"Then when was it?"

"While I was making love to you," he moved again, "I called you another person's name because Misao said hurt distracts the signal. I wanted you to miss the signal in case you hear it and I'm explaining in case you still didn't get it."

"You mean…"

"Your world is not a parallel world. I have no Kaoru here. You have no Kenshin there. Why you came here in the first place I still don't understand. But what I understand is that you were meant to come here and stay here. With me." The tub was almost full and the water was spilling.

She started crying, broke into a laugh and relaxed into a smile. "With you sounds nice."

* * *

**A/n: **So? Absurd? Yeah I know.


	12. Last candle

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK and all its characters are not mine.

**Author's Notes: **So this was based on the same idea as my one-shot Kaidan, why have Kaidan as a different story? Probably because it has more developed plot (or should I say more potential for development?). This has been sitting in my HD for some time now, it's one of those experiments with folkloric ideas (remember the fics Darkness and The courtship, Dragon dance, The tradition and Kaidan). There would be more of that stuff soon.

* * *

**Title: **Last candle

**Rating: **T

* * *

It was the last candle. It was the hundredth story and as she said, in a low voice, the very last words she felt a chill. A sudden chill and she quickly shook her head and dismissed herself as being silly. It was just a retelling, a retelling of some old tales she heard when she was younger, when she would listen to her older cousins murmur ghost stories at night, frightening themselves, huddling closer together as if they were cold whereas it was summer and those summer nights were humid, unbearably hot.

She blew the last flame and as the last flicker disappeared she swallowed hard, heard Megumi and Misao shudder and she nervously laughed.

"It's a silly game," she said as she flicked open the lights.

"No it's not."

"If it isn't, where is the ghost you're supposed to see after the hundredth story?" she bent her neck, felt a stiff muscle grow pliant.

"Well…" Misao's voice trailed off.

"I'm going to bed now. Kaoru's right. That was a silly game," Megumi stood up, gathered the candles and decided against not asking Misao to accompany her to the kitchen to return the candles.

Misao frowned at her, "And you tell me it's a silly game." She stood up, gathered the remaining candles and went with Megumi.

Kaoru opened the windows to air the room. The room smelled wildly of lavender and she felt a bit suffocated. Misao really had to use scented ones. It was Misao's idea to play _hyakumonogatari_. She refused, she never really did like it. She used to play it with her cousins when she was much younger and each night she would dream. She knew it was the same dream everytime. She just couldn't seem to remember the exact dream everytime she wakes up.

Once, when she turned fifteen, her eldest cousin initiated the game. That night she dreamt of golden eyes. She woke up, not really terrified, anxious rather, and had the feeling that the dream she had was the same dream she had been having before.

When she turned eighteen, just to test her theory, she played it again with her college friends. Surprisingly there were no golden eyes, only sensations. And she could feel her whole body tingling when she woke up the following morning.

The following nights she dreamt of red, too much red and calloused hands. And then the sensations increased, the touches were more daring, more explorative and she could not control it as she felt it moving along her breasts and down between her legs. And every morning her knees would buckle and threaten to give out. She cursed herself many times for those kinds of dreams, blaming Megumi inwardly for bringing her along to some porn movie festival for her birthday.

And tonight. She took in a deep breath, shook her head, and scolded herself. She doesn't want to dream tonight. She doesn't need the sensations. Right?

She closed the windows, the air much cleaner, lighter, less sweet, less aromatic. She locked the doors and yawned. It was almost midnight. The storytelling had taken her entire night.

She heard Misao and Megumi talking softly and she mischievously thought to scare them. But suddenly feeling overly sleepy she decided against it and went to her room.

* * *

**A/n: **So? You know the drill guys...


	13. Time travel

**Fall from grace**

By hye-kyo

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine.

**A/n: **This is a small drabble I uncovered from my HD. It was written a long time ago. It's some sketch of some sort if I remember correctly and was supposed to be a longer story but I've never gotten around to molding it. The idea came from a question raised by a friend. This friend asked me something that led to an answer that involves Kenshin suddenly walking through the wall. This friend still teases me about that. For the Sessha parts, I know, I tried hard to be consistent but I just can't, let's just assume the Battousai personality is seeping...Anyway, on with the story.

* * *

**Title: **Time travel

**Rating: **K

"""

Kaoru fell asleep around two in the morning, suddenly woke up at three and saw something bright and glinting by the wall. But having been overworked and overstressed she brushed it off as some dream.

Ten minutes right after she went back to sleep there was a poking on her arm. She mumbled, again took that as part of some dream. Twenty more minutes after, the poking was still there, joined by some murmurings in her ear. She mumbled, annoyed, threw her hand up to hit whatever it is, a mosquito or a fly perhaps, and went back to sleep.

Thirty minutes after incessant pokings and murmurings Kaoru sat up, dousing herself from sleep in hopes of getting rid of that dream. But what came before her eyes almost sent her back to sleeping for she almost fainted.

There was a man in her room.

The idea was hard to grasp at first. Watching many horror and suspense films had made her thought about what she would do in such circumstances—she'd scream, fight and run. But being in that circumstance she wasn't able to do anything. She just sat there petrified.

It was only after five minutes of staring that she finally found her voice to shout. Everything clicked in her mind and, clenching her fist, she let out a scream.

But the man was quick to cover her mouth. "Please…Sessha's not going to hurt you…"

_Sessha?_ Now that she's fully awake she noticed that he looked like someone taken from a history book.

"Please don't scream Miss, Sessha's not going to hurt you." There was a pleading look in his eyes, a look that reminded her of puppies and kittens. Oh well, she might as well hear him out. He kind of looked lost and nice and cute…

She nodded at him, relaxing against his hold to assure him she isn't going to scream nor run.

He released her, smiling. "Sessha's really sorry for being here…I believe I am lost…"

"Yeah…oh…" she managed a smile, his smile was infectious. Anyway, she cleared her throat and asked, "Why are you here? How did you get here?"

"Sessha doesn't really know how I got here…I was making dinner and suddenly there was a light, a very bright light, and here I was…Sessha doesn't even know where this is…"

Now that sounded suspicious. If he told her the window was open and he saw her sleeping and got captivated by her and he came in to introduce himself and ask for her hand in marriage she would have believed him. But a bright light? Who in the world would believe that?

Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Her twenty-third birthday is three days from now. Megumi told her they were planning a surprise for her. So, is giving her a heart attack part of the surprise? She laughed.

"Miss? Are you alright?" he seemed worried.

His acting was flawless, she thought. "Okay," she started, trying again, "What's the catch?"

"Catch?"

"Yeah? Where's the camera?" She turned around, "Is Megumi filming this?"

"Megumi?"

She frowned at him, "You can drop the act now."

"Miss?"

"You have a great costume, great acting, so where's the camera?"

"Camera?"

She frowned again. She stood up, started switching on the lights, searching for a camera. When she found none, she turned back to the man, who she could now see has long red hair, a cross-shaped scar on his cheek, which kind of looks a bit too real to be prosthetics or makeup, pretty violet eyes, perfect nose and perfect mouth. Apart from the ragged magenta and white ensemble, throw in the maroon socks and the hideous fashion sense, he could pass for a celebrity.

She cleared her throat, focusing on the more serious things at hand, "So there's no camera?"

"None…I believe there is no camera here nor any thing resembling that contraption," he said seriously.

"So this isn't a joke? A comedy home video? Something that Megumi set up?"

"This is certainly not a joke. Though I am hoping that I am just dreaming because I really do not know how I got here. And no this is not a co-comedy…what was that again?"

She arched a brow, "A comedy home video."

"Yes, no this is certainly not that though I don't really understand what you mean by that. And this is also not something that Megumi set up. Who is Megumi by the way?"

"She's a friend," and then she shook her head, "Don't turn me around. I know you're planning something with her so why don't you just spill the beans?"

"I swear in the name of Kami that I do not know her so I don't have any bean to spill as you put it," he explained.

She looked at the clock. It was almost four and she has to get up by six. She cleared her throat. "So, let's start from the top."

He nodded.

"You don't know Megumi."

He nodded.

"This wasn't planned."

He nodded again.

"You are lost."

He eagerly nodded.

"You don't know how you got here, just some bright light or something."

"Yes."

"So…" she took a deep breath, and as if just speaking to herself she said, "Then I must be dreaming."

"I was hoping too. But unfortunately this isn't a dream."

"Then what is this?"

He slowly shrugged his shoulders and in attempt to say something more substantial choked on his words and only managed a, "I wish I know."

"""

Kaoru woke up. Last night's event seemed so distant, like a vague memory, like a dream. She stretched, smoothed her blankets and let out a sigh, "Oh well, it was a dream."

"Good morning."

"Good morning," she quickly replied on reflex. And then she froze. There was a voice. She slowly turned her head and found a silhouette by the doorway.

"Good morning Miss Kaoru," the voice repeated.

"Who are you? How did you get in here? I'm calling the police! Don't come any closer—"

"I'm really sorry for barging in like this but I just can't—"

And then it struck her. _It was_ the _dream_. He was the dream.

"You're still here?"

"Yes…If only I could just go back to Edo I promise I won't be bothering you and—"

"Edo?"

"Yes."

No, no. She was not going to fall for that. She would not even think about that. Of course not. What is this? Some sci-fi flick gone wrong? No, no, no. How in the world would she believe that this ragged-looking man—well, he's good-looking anyway so the raggedness can be really underplayed—came from the past?

* * *

**A/n:** So what do you think?


	14. 1870s

**Fall from grace**

By hye-kyo

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Nope, RK isn't mine.

**Author's Notes: **So I wanted to do a piece wherein Kaoru's the one who time travels. And here it is.

* * *

**Title:** 1870s

**Rating:** T

* * *

Kenshin had folded his soiled clothes and had put them in the hamper. There were so many clothes to wash: Yahiko had just come back from training in the mountains and had added to the pile, Sano promised to treat him to lunch at the Akebeko and added some more to the pile. He would be needing at least the entire day to finish everything and that would leave too little time to clean the dojo.

_Oh well_. He shrugs, if he doesn't take a bath now he would probably forget about it soon. And he needed one, he had spent the entire morning cleaning the storehouse, looking for things that can still be sold. He should really _ask_ Sano to look for a job, or else...

He would not want to think about it. If the daughter of the landowner returns from her trip abroad, they would probably be kicked out. And without much money where on earth will the three of them stay? And to think he was formerly the Battousai! _The Battousai!_

He shook his head, he had been thinking too much. The landowner died some years before and the family doctor, Gensai-sensei had been looking after the house for a long time along with the landowner's daughter. Gensai-sensei invited the three of them to stay, saying that the _Ojou-san_ of the house saw them and took pity and asked if they could stay and since they looked jobless, could they take care of the house as well while they were away? The _Ojou-san_ of the house will be leaving for Boston, Gensai-sensei said, and the ship _Manjiro _will be leaving tomorrow and will take many moons to reach Boston and will take more to get back to Yedo. He added by saying he will be leaving as well, he will be taking the opportunity to visit his family in Ise he said.

It was Sano who immediately agreed. And two years had passed since then. Once a seafarer from Okinawa brought them a newspaper from Hawaii. It was in English, the man said, but there was an inset with some Japanese text on it and Kenshin found it amusing to read small bits of information about Japan on that newspaper, _so this is how foreigners perceived us?_ He chuckled. Interesting. The seafarer also brought a letter, from the _Oujou-san_, he said and after taking a cup of tea from Kenshin, he left along with the newspaper.

It was a short note, saying she will be back soon and was hoping that the house was in order. When she comes back she hopes to find them still there for if she does not, she will have the police find them—her family, which was small yet extremely wealthy, was friends with the Reformists anyway, but not with him even though he was one of the many little, secondary characters of the Reformation.

He stepped into the tub and wished he had lowered the temperature of the water. But well, this was better for his tired body. He suddenly sat up, remembering Megumi-dono saying she will be back later that afternoon. He panicked, wondering if he had locked the door. Megumi-dono had the habit of _sneaking in_. Many times when Sano had found him in various states of accidental impropriety with Megumi-dono he had shot him a death glare that rivalled Saito's, Mibu's wolf.

He stepped out once more, careful not to make too much puddle with the water dripping from him and barred the door. _There now._ He treaded back to the _ofuro_, careful not to slip and stepped in, the water pooling around his legs, his waist, his shoulders as he slid and revelled in the warmth of the water.

He closed his eyes, the characters in the _Ojou-san_'s letter appearing in his mind—the neat, dainty strokes which clashed vividly with the forceful choice of words. He inferred from that that whatever threat the _Ojou-san_ made in the letter will be followed through, swiftly. _Aku. Zoku. Zan. _He shivered, sank more deeply in the water and tried to picture her in his mind.

Perhaps she is past her mid thirties already, even though Gensai-sensei kept referring to her as _Ojou-san_, Kenshin was more inclined to think of her as older. _She must have beautiful hands_, he thought, but she must be strict, observant of decorum and etiquette. Well, _then maybe I should start training those two in proper etiquette._ Her name means fragrant, Gensai-sensai proffered after telling him her name, and he could envision a woman in a fashionably classic kimono, the color of the layers well thought off, elaborate hair, long dainty fingers. She must be very tall and he could almost imagine her having other servants throwing them out. He sighed. _Fragrant._ _Kamiya Kaoru. _A beautiful name. _She must be beautiful too_. _An old but beautiful woman._

He closed his eyes, his neck against the ledge, his thoughts getting dulled by the warmth of the water. The _Ojou-san _would come home and the three of them would be at the gate waiting.

_Konnichiwa Kaoru-dono_—

He blinked.

The splash too loud and too high, water droplets are falling on his face like rain. There was an almost hysterical ripple in the water making whatever it was that fell invisible. And bubbles were rising.

He blinked again. He slowly looked up, the roof was intact. He looked down, watched with horror as strands of hair slowly rose to the surface. His eyes widened as a head full of black hair rose in slow motion and he almost let out a girl-like shriek when a young woman suddenly sat up.

"God," she exclaimed, taking in mouthfuls of air, "Misao would laugh at me if I tell her I almost drowned in the bathtub." She was calming herself when her eyes found his.

He was much too occupied with her sudden appearance to notice how _naked_ the girl was. And had it not for the very unconventional meeting, he would have noticed how extremely pretty she is. But that would be under normal circumstances. This was not considered normal.

She suddenly let out a scream, which jolted him from his shock and immediately he grabbed her and covered her mouth, forgetting and not entirely noticing how naked they both were.

"O-ojou-san, do not scream please." When her eyes suddenly lost that wild look in them and was replaced, instead of panic, he wondered and realized the state of undress they were both in; his face grew hot. He immediately tried to move as far away as possible, but with the _ofuro _being very too _little_, he found it hard to manoeuvre.

She was sitting on his legs by the time they were both relatively calm and collected.

"Uhmm..." she opened her mouth to speak and tried to look straight at him, but failed miserably as she blushed furiously and looked away. And it was only then that she seemed to notice how different her surroundings were.

"W-who are you miss?" he asked, trying to avert his eyes, though he could quite remember he had _accidentally_ saw something and had _accidentally_ touched something during their more hysterical moments. He felt his face growing hotter by the minute.

"W-where am I?" she let the words roll of her tongue, her eyes roaming her environment.

"Well, I am the caretaker of this house." He glanced at her, noticed how beads of water dotted her white neck.

"This is Japan, yes?" she seemed to have forgotten her state of undress as she slowly stood up to take in her surroundings. Kenshin tried to avert his eyes once again.

"Yes," he closed his eyes, lest he get tempted. He run the question in his mind again and frowned at the very obvious answer.

"Tokyo yes?"

He furrowed his brows. Of course. He was almost tempted to roll his eyes at the question. "Yes."

She stopped, looked at his face and asked slowly, "2011?"

He arched a brow, baffled. Was this a password? Code? He remembered during his time at the Ishin Shishi they used to speak in codes. Was he supposed to understand that?

"Is this the year 2011?"

He almost forgot to breath. How could someone so beautiful be a nutcase?

"Is this the year 2011?" she asked, her voice higher, more hysterical, she had straddled him, a move which did all sorts of mischievous things to his body. He tried to scoot away but she had grabbed his shoulders and had started shaking him.

"No!"

She stopped. Her mouth in an "o" and slumped, her earlier vigor suddenly gone. Her body went limp and she let her head fall against his chest. "No?"

"N-no," he whispered, not knowing how to move, what to say, what to do.

"How did I get here?" she muttered again and he knew she had started crying.

"I don't know miss...I don't know," and he let his hand touch her head and he began murmuring wordless noises to calm her down.

""

He offered her some clothes which she willingly changed into. He prepared some food and was glad that she liked it. She even asked for second helpings and as soon as she emptied her third bowl of rice she began to talk animatedly about what happened that morning. She was taking a bath she said and she had almost fallen asleep when she felt the bathtub melting under her and suddenly she was underwater and when she rose to the surface finally after what seemed like a lifetime, she found him. "What year is this?"

"It is the tenth year of the Meiji Era," he says, smiling.

She paused thoughtfully for a while, pulled some hair back behind her ear and said, "More or less 1870s...good thing I paid attention to my history class." She smiled ruefully, "Maybe tomorrow when I wake up I will be back in my time. Perhaps this is a dream or something."

"Perhaps," he too hoped that this might be a dream.

"By the way your speech pattern is so cute."

He was tempted to tell that her choice of words was actually weird and that if there was a weird person in the house right now, it was her and not him. Besides, this is his time and hers, well he doesn't know when 2011 is, but perhaps it is in the future since it sounded so far away and just the number itself seemed to be so far away. But he didn't say anything since this was all a dream.

"Well," she took in a deep breath, "I think this is a dream. I think I have been here before. "

"Really?" he offered some more tea which she gladly took.

"You know how sometimes we dream of the same things? That's the feeling I get when I look at my surroundings now."

"Oh," he murmured, watching varied emotions play in her face.

"Well," she leaned closer, "Since this is a dream, we might as well make the most out of it."

"What do you mean?" he fought the urge to blush. She was so close and so fragrant. _Fragrant._ He suddenly remembered the _Oujou-san_ and wondered how, if this was not a dream, he would explain the appearance of this girl.

"For starters, let us introduce ourselves. You first." She smiled, eagerly waiting for him to speak.

He cleared his throat, "Alright. I am Himura Kenshin. And since this is a dream, I'll let you call me by my given name." He almost blushed at that.

She giggled, "Okay then, I'll call you Kenshin."

"And you?" he broke into a smile.

She leaned closer, her brows furrowed, and whispered, "Try to guess?"

"Guess? There are a thousand, no a million, no millions, _millions!_ names in Japan, how could I possibly guess what your name is?"

"Just try to." She urged, pouting.

He looked away, her body reacting weirdly again. "Alright," he said after taking a deep breath. He decided he would say a random name, he knew he would be wrong anyway, but at the moment he could not think of any name. Except Kaoru. "Kaoru?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you know?"

He frowned. He supposed she was going to say that whatever name he told her. "You do not have to humor me you know."

She leaned back. "Humor you? Why would I do that? My name is Kaoru. Kamiya Kaoru."

Now it was his turn to widen his eyes.

* * *

**A/n: **So how was it?


	15. Ebisu

**Fall from grace**

By hye-kyo

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**Disclaimer: **RK isn't mind.

**Author's Notes. **It was among the files I found in my HD. Of course Kenshin is the man with the red hair (who else? Sano?). Just so you know, an ebisu is like an amulet (like an omamori or an ofuda) but usually the ebisu takes the form of a small Buddha. Maybe this is in connection with Ebisu, the god of luck and fishing villages.

Read and review!

* * *

**Title: **Ebisu

**Rating: **T

''''

He was among the driftwood that washed up on the beach that day.

The mass of red was what caught her attention. She thought at once that he must have come from the west, from where the oceans end and the heavens begin.

She had rushed, saw that the mass of red was actually hair and that it belonged to a man. Her blood rushed, had the gods heard her? Had she found more than an _ebisu_?

She had brought him to the small shrine inside a cave where the water pours in and out. Water fills half the cave when the tide is high. She did not bother pulling her kimono up, the waves were gentle, the sky was bright, she could easily find her way through the cave.

Under the bright light, his red hair seemed to turn gold. There is another shrine at the top of the cliff where a monk resides. She would call the monk as soon as she settles the stranger in the cave. She needed to make sure he was the one before she could tell everyone.

She searched for any injury, any fatal wound. He does not look hurt, except for the quite tender scar on his cheek. His clothes were not blood-stained, if they were they had been probably washed off in the water. He does not look Nihon-jin, she had not seen anybody with red hair before. He probably has come from the west.

She had almost gotten up, assured that, at the most, he was unhurt and going to live, when a hand caught her arm. She looked down and saw the most intense pair of golden eyes she had ever seen.

"Who?" his voice was hoarse, deep, strong and raw, like he had just started learning how to use it.

"Y-you...you were on the shore..." she could not find her voice. The air stilled around them and she could hear her heart beating in her chest wildly.

"Shore?" he coughed, held on tighter to her arm. She could see marks on her arm beginning to form.

"Yes..." she tried to get his hand off, gritted her teeth and felt fear seeping as she tried to avoid his intense gaze.

"Who...are you?" he pulled harder until he yanked her down.

Above him, she could feel the heat of his body through their wet clothes. She flushed, lost her voice and panicked.

"Who?" he said louder, his hold rougher.

"Ka-Kamiya Kaoru..." she could not breathe. Fear was choking her to death. She could feel water washing up on her feet, the tide was getting higher. The sun had almost set.

"Kamiya?" he closed his eyes momentarily. Finally he loosened his hold on her arm.

She took the opportunity to get off but his hand quickly shot up and grabbed her hair. She let out a yelp and tried to push. The man caught both her wrists and hurled her down, she screamed, the waves washing up, filling the cave. She was afraid they would not hear her voice anymore even if she screamed. Was she wrong? Had she been wrong to think he was the one the prophecy said about?

He moved again, captured both wrists in one hand as she flipped them over, him settling his weight down on her suddenly stilling form. He cursed.

She lost her voice. Would her only hope turn out to be her demise? "You are not the one..." she murmured before she could even think.

His eyes squinted. In the dark his eyes shone like gold and his hair was dark, like dried blood. His teeth were white, she could see them as he breathed in deeply, his breath echoing in her ears. "Not the one?"

She swallowed hard. She was beginning to ascertain that he was not the one the prophecy said about. Salvation was a dream. The prophecy was not true. From there on her future was surely bleak. As the sun comes down, the god of the sea will come and take her away, that is, if she wasn't yet dead. The prophecy talked of salvation, in the form of which she never knew, the only clue being that her salvation will appear on the shore today. She thought it was some sort of _ofuda_, or some sort of amulet, even an _ebisu_ that would protect her from the god. So when she saw him her heart raced and thought that the heavens must have heard her and sent her more than an amulet.

"What do you mean?" she suddenly felt him too close, his breath hot on her face. He smelled of saltwater and pines.

"Who are you?" she asked, swallowing hard.

"Something," his face contorted into a pained frown. He seemed to be in pain, "Something called me here."

"Are you hurt?" she suddenly lost her fear. Before the god of the sea chose her as a sacrifice she was an herbalist, a healer. She lived alone, her parents died during the plague. She lived a simple life, surviving on gifts of fruits and eggs and of what she could catch in the sea. She was more or less contented with her life until the famine. Until the god asked for her as a sacrifice, until the god asked the townsfolk to give her up in exchange of bounty harvest from the sea.

He jerked away from her, losing his balance, hitting his shoulder against a protruding rock. He let out a yelp and she automatically sat up and caught him. He watched her.

"You are hurt," she said, almost to herself, as she saw the blotching on his damp cloth. He has a wound on his side, probably a big wound judging from how the blood soaks the cloth.

"It doesn't matter," he shoved her away, "What is this place? Who are you?"

The sun was beginning to set. She looked at the man. He said something called him here. What was it? Was she in fact right about him? Was he the one the prophecy talked about? Was he the one destined to save her? She'll take the chance, "You said you were called to come here. What called you here? Who called you here?"

And then pain shot through him as he tried to stand up. He fell back, groaning, his cloth soaked with blood. His head lulled to one side.

"Hold on," she panicked. She feared he was losing too much blood. She feared she was losing the only chance of escape. She quickly tore the hem of her kimono, untied the sash of his cloth, which now, seemed like some sort of _yukata_, and started cleaning the wound.

He had lost consciousness. She looked at his face, watched out for any sign of complication. There was none. The sun had already set, water was beginning to fill the cave and the man was growing cold. Savior or not she could not leave him there. She was an herbalist, she helps cure the sick, she tries to save lives. Even if he was not the one and even if, judging from what happened earlier, saving him would turn out too dangerous for her, too dangerous that she might regret it afterwards, she was still determined to save him. The only problem was how to get him out of the cave.

''''

* * *

**A/n: **If you are wondering what an ebisu is (or what an ofuda or an omamori is) see above author's note. ^_^


	16. Love

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Standard disclaimers apply.

**Author's Notes: **I had a lot of things to do at work but its summer already and the air is muggy and sticky and I could not concentrate on anything. It is not a workday tomorrow for me and I was hoping I could finish a lot of stuff before the day ends but this (below) struck me and yeah, it is not much but I hope you like it.

* * *

**Title: **Love

**Rating: **T

''''

It was forbidden, what she wanted to do. Their god was a revengeful one and it was _difficult_ not to believe and everyone believes, and whatever she says, whether it was logically well-put together, her arguments, no one will believe her for their god was revengeful. And everyone was afraid. Including her. But that does not matter now, for she knows she has not much time left, so as he, and she wants to love him and him to love her.

"I am," she whispers in his mouth, "I am in love."

He does not say anything, he only waits, for waiting is all he could do at this moment, he waits so he can protect her, protect her from himself.

"I know I am not…like you," she takes a deep breath and brings her hand to touch his chest, to feel the beating pulse under her touch and she almost cries, for she is different, so unlike him, and why did the revengeful god not make her like him? Or him like her?

"You are not," he finally says and puts her hand to her own chest, to show how much they are less different than what she originally perceived. Or how the world originally perceived. And these are perceptions, and perceptions are hard to change, for perceptions are rooted in dogmatic beliefs, dogmas as hard as concrete, massive and difficult to tear down, hard to scale or burn a hole through. "The only difference is that," he pulls her closer, a hand enclosing upon the hand she has on her chest, "I am a man and you are a woman. But even in that there is not much difference Kaoru."

"I might…put you in danger Kenshin," she admits her own selfishness but caresses him nevertheless, her chest against his, her flesh moulding with his, her heartbeat his, her promise of love in her mouth and into his own.

"I might as well be," he smiles despite the sad tone in his voice. And he accepts as he tells her his answer with his hands and mouth and tongue. It was once a different world, what they had. It was once so different, but he could not recall how different, he was brought into this world with all the signs of what it once had been erased. It was a lot different now, the rebellion told him, and they cannot love, for they have forgotten to love, for they follow what the revengeful god tells them, follow everything without fail, like clockwork, or something even less sophisticated than that, for the brilliant minds of men and women had been reduced to these un-brave blobs of flesh busy at making themselves acceptable, _un-unique_, similar to everybody. And _things_, he winces at the term they call people like Kaoru, they are deemed different, slaves, un-free. "I am in love," he whispers, his mouth on the underside of her chin, his heartbeat steady, moving against the hum of her own body.

"_Love_," she takes a long deep breath, ready to dive and fall and she clasps his shoulders as he pulls her closer still and she feels the world closing around her and her body falling into an infinite chasm, winding and winding until she shatters into a thousand shards, ready to be broken again and again. She feels free.

* * *

**A/n: **So what do you think?


	17. Subjectivity

**Fall from grace**

**By hye-kyo**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Standard disclaimers apply.

**Author's Notes: **This one, like all the rest of the fics here, is random. I will most probably add another chapter after this.

* * *

**Title: **Subjectivity

**Rating: **T (for the theme)

""""

She was the elusive void in the subjectivity he has been searching. Sano says he has been thinking too much - he has too much money, too much time on his hands, that he spends his day and night thinking about what to do with his life. Think about the people in the not-so-economically developed countries, Sano says, they don't have time to think about those things like satisfaction or quality of life because their bellies are empty.

Probably, he answers, but what can he do? He donates and sends stuff abroad, he regularly donates blood, he joins social welfare activities. Probably, probably he needs to be hungry and poor and cold and alone to realize what it is that he really wants. Probably he had it too easy.

She was working as a part-time social worker in one of the nursing homes he frequents. He usually comes there, and to some other social work places as well, to bring over some stuff he rarely uses, to give money for the nursing home. There is a shortage of funds; the local government cannot pay for these social services anymore, in fact a non-profit organization has actually taken over it.

Her name is Kaoru. He thought her a boy when Mina-san, the head social worker, said someone new will be working with them. His heart stopped when he finally saw her.

She was wearing some plain working clothes, her hair up in a messy ponytail. She was wearing no make-up that day, a messenger bag was slung carelessly down one shoulder. She looked pale over all. Yet his heart stopped the moment she said good morning.

Takumi-kun, the university student working as a volunteer, said Kaoru started two weeks ago. He was in Venice that time; he had promised his girlfriend they would go there to make up for whatever he doesn't really know – it's not as if they were losing time or something like that, or even something like he was keen on making her happy or something to that effect. (Well she wasn't really his girlfriend, the arrangement that they have is more of a friends-with-benefits type).

He approached Kaoru that lunch – he prepared bentos for everyone. He was good at those kinds of things. He thought doing those for other people would make him fulfilled, but it never did – until that day when she smiled as she received his homemade bento. His heart went _tokidoki_.

She ate fast and before he could even tell her he was working as a company president (on name and salary only, his uncle still runs the entire thing and leaves him be and lets him do whatever he wants) she had gone back to feeding and changing the beddings. By 7 pm, she had gone home.

Every Wednesday he sees her in the nursing home. He heard from Mina-san that she was working as a part-timer in many places. She has one little brother whom she supports and she has no parents. She rents a room in south Tokyo. She is a university graduate Mina-san said. She doesn't talk much. She talks to no one actually. One Wednesday he saw her reading a thick stack of papers. She was highlighting some words and writing notes.

"Studying?" he asked even before he could think about think.

She nodded, "Term papers. For grad school."

He didn't say anything afterwards.

Three months and he hadn't made any progress. Things at work haven't change that much. More or less he was still the same restless person that he was three months ago. Except that he knows what he wants now. Today he will ask her out.

"You like me?" Kaoru suddenly asks as he hands her a bento.

"Huh?"

"You want to sleep with me?"

"Huh?" he looked down. He wasn't used to girls being so direct towards him. "Kamiya-san...you see..."

"You're always looking at me. You want to sleep with me?"

"Ka-Kamiya-san..."

"Ok, wait up for me after today. Let's go somewhere. You're paying." She grabs the bento, walks over to a corner, opens a book she had been holding and begins to eat.

* * *

**A/n: **So what do you think?


End file.
